The Night That Changed It All
by Taylor4
Summary: When something happens to Rory's loved ones, who will be there to help her pick up the pieces of her broken heart? Complete.
1. Beg and Nag

"Please?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Please please please?" Lorelai pleaded, pouting her lips.  
  
"NO!"  
  
"Evil. EVIL. Do you know what happens to evil people like you? They go to the bad place because they're evil."  
  
"No." Luke said flatly.  
  
A few feet away, Rory laughed, watching her mom beg.  
  
"Is she trying to get more coffee?" Jess questioned, placing Rory's pancakes in front of her.  
  
"For once, no. Mom wants Luke to go with her to this party my grandparents are having Saturday," Rory explained.  
  
"On a date?"  
  
"No…just so she doesn't have to find someone they haven't met and will interrogate."  
  
"Poor Luke. He doesn't stand a chance," Jess guessed as Lorelai grabs Luke's ever-present baseball cap and held it hostage.  
  
"Fine," The two teens heard Luke concede.  
  
"YAY!" Lorelai's high-pitched squeal caused every patron of Luke's Diner to look at her with concern.  
  
"I'm not crazy," Lorelai explained, "I'm fine. I'm great! I'm fant-"  
  
"Leave now. You're scaring all the customers," Luke said.  
  
"Fine. I'll be back though. To make plans. PLANS! Wee!" Lorelai grinnned, and exited, waving to Rory.  
  
"She's leaving you?" Jess asked.  
  
"No. Dean's meeting me. You can come to the party with us if you want," Rory saied.  
  
"I'd rather have my head sat on by Taylor," Jess said, dead serious.  
  
"Because of Dean?" Rory asked.  
  
"Yes, and because what you have told me about your grandparents, I just don't think I'd have fun. I'd be like Rhett at the Wilkes party."  
  
"Hey Ror," Dean said as he entered the diner, leaning over and kissing Rory's cheek.  
  
"Hey Dean!" Rory broke into a wide grin.  
  
"Jess," Dean saide as he sat down.  
  
"Bye Rory," Jess walked away, not acknowledging Dean's presence.  
  
"God I hate him," Dean frowned.  
  
"Just forget it," Rory pleaded, digging into her pancakes. Dean laughed at her pudging cheeks.  
  
"Wha?" Rory said with her mouth full.  
  
"Nothing," Dean said innocently, "So this party…does it involve a tie?"  
  
"Uhtux," Rory mumbled incoherently.  
  
"A what?"  
  
"Um. A tux?" Rory said apologetically.  
  
"Like your coming out thing? THAT kind of tux?"  
  
"No! No gloves. Or hat. Or tails."  
  
"Well that's just great then," Dean sighed.  
  
"It'll be okay, I swear. I'm going to wear a frilly dress and look like a tulip, you'll look like a penguin, we'll mock the old people and then go home and watch ET."  
  
"Sounds like fun," Dean smiled, stealing a sip of Rory's coffee.  
  
"EXCUSE ME MR! No one touches the coffee!" Rory scolded her boyfriend, lightly slapping Dean's palm.  
  
"Ow."  
  
"It didn't hurt."  
  
"My pride, oh my pride," joked Dean.  
  
"Okay, I'm done. Let's go," Rory said. She stood up, and grabbed her coat.  
  
"Um, don't we have to pay?" Dean said, confused.  
  
"BYE LUKE!" Rory waved, skipping out the door. 


	2. Sexy, Slutty or Skanky?

"I look like a 3 year old!" Rory exclaimed.  
  
"It's really not that bad," Lorelai told her. Rory's look made Lorelai wince. "Okay, it is that bad, but I can fix it."  
  
"You'll kill it?"  
  
"I can try."  
  
"Well, while you perform surgery on Shirley Temple's favorite outfit, I'm going to make some coffee."  
  
"Ooh! The working drink!"  
  
"The party drink."  
  
"The everything drink!"  
  
"You know we're kind of strange?" Rory askd her mother.  
  
"Yes, but that's what makes everyone love us."  
  
"I don't think Luke loves us. Not after you told him to wear a tux," Rory teased her, smiling.  
  
"That was a scene. The screaming. The crying. A scene straight out of Real World," Lorelai remembered, pulling out her sewing kit.  
  
"You'll have it done by tomorrow night, you swear?"  
  
"Yes. It will be the sexiest dress there! The envy of all the other dresses!" Lorelai promises.  
  
"No sexy."  
  
"Fine. Slutty."  
  
"No slutty."  
  
"Skanky?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Saucy?"  
  
"As long as it's not revealing saucy." Rory sighs.  
  
"Okay!"  
  
The next morning, Rory sighed as her alarm started mooing.  
  
"Are you up?" Lorelai asked, jumping on Rory's bed.  
  
"No."  
  
"Then how are you talking?"  
  
"Sleep talking. Leave me alone."  
  
"My we are cranky. Your dress is done."  
  
"I don't care. Need coffee," Rory groaned, getting out of bed.  
  
"Coming right up!" Lorelai bounded out of the room.  
  
"How are you so perky? We were up so late!" Rory asked as she entered the kitchen.  
  
"That, my dear, is the wonder of coffee. Drink, darling, drink."  
  
"Hmmm…mocha goodness…" Rory mumbled as she sipped the steaming brown liquid.  
  
"And HERE is the formerly pink frilly devil from hell, transformed into a girly, romantic, poetic delight!" Lorelai boasted, pulling the dress from behind her back.  
  
"Ooh. Pretty!" Rory giggled, finger the fabric.  
  
"Yes. Very," Lorelai smiled proudly.  
  
"Do you think Grandma will be mad?"  
  
"At what?"  
  
"The mutilation of her 'darling' ensemble?" Rory frowned.  
  
"No. She'll be fine."  
  
"I need food. Do we have food?" Rory questioned.  
  
"Yes! I went down to Luke's and got yummy muffins."  
  
"Thank you Wonder Woman!"  
  
That evening, Rory called up the stairs, "Are you ready?"  
  
"No. I hate Luke."  
  
"You don't hate him, he had something important to do. But we're going to be late Mom! Dean will be here any minute and we will leave without you!"  
  
The doorbell rings, and Rory headed to the door and pulled it open.  
  
After a minute, Dean finally could speak. "Wow."  
  
"Wow yourself. Nice tux."  
  
"Thanks…but you…wow." Dean's eyes took in Rory's softly curled hair, full pink lips, and the beautiful pink dress that gracefully fell to her knees.  
  
"Do I look like pink whipped cream?"  
  
"No. No…." Dean stuttered.  
  
"MOM!" Rory yelled.  
  
"Coming coming coming!"  
  
"Hello Lorelai. I like your dress," Dean smiled. The red silk dress Lorelai was wearing fell to her feet, with a slit up the leg she knew her mother would have something to say about.  
  
"Cram it Romeo. I don't even compare to Rory. You look beautiful," Lorelai smiled at her daughter.  
  
"Are we ready to go?" Dean asked.  
  
"Yes…let me just go grab my purse," Lorelai said, running in to the kitchen. During her absence, Dean leaned in and gives Rory a sweet, lingering kiss.  
  
"I had to do that," Dean smiled. "I love you, Rory."  
  
"I love you too." Rory said, grabbing his hand.  
  
"Alright, off we go!" Lorelai smiled as she ran out the door. 


	3. Escape

"Rory! You look beautiful!" Emily Gilmore greeted her only grandchild, "But what happened to the dress I sent over for you?"  
  
"Um…This is it. Mom made a few changes," Rory said hesitantly.  
  
"Yes, I see that. It's nice to see you, Dean. My you look handsome!"  
  
"Thank you Mrs. Gilmore," Dean smiled graciously.  
  
"Lorelai! What are you wearing?" Hissed Emily as the three of them enter the crowded house.  
  
"Britney Spears' Grammy dress. Don't you like?" Lorelai quipped.  
  
"Well, I wish you had dressed more appropriately, because there's someone I want you to meet!" Emily smiled, maneuvering Lorelai over to a tall, blonde man with wire-rim glasses.  
  
"Oh, no, not again," Lorelai muttered to her mother as they walked over to him.  
  
Shooting her daughter a look, Emily said, "Lorelai, this is Barry Adams! He's a lawyer for a very respected firm. Barry, this is my daughter, Lorelai Gilmore."  
  
"It's very nice to meet you, Lorelai."  
  
"Yes, you too."  
  
"It looks like your mother needs our help," Dean smiled. Rory looks up from her drink and laughed at the look her mother wass shooting over in their direction. Her eyes clearly said get me out of here!  
  
"It certainly appears so. Let's go," Rory smiled.  
  
"Dean! Rory! I'd like you to meet some people," Emily said, hooking her arms through the two teens.  
  
"Grandma, we were just going to—" Rory protested.  
  
"Nonsense. Whatever it was, you can do it later. Rory, these are the Millers. They are Harvard alumni."  
  
"Rory, I hear you wish to attend Harvard…" Mrs. Miller began. The look Rory gave Dean is identical to the one her mother displayed a few minutes earlier.  
  
After a few minutes of school talk, Dean broke in, asking wear the restroom is.  
  
"I'll show you. It was very nice to meet you, Mr. And Mrs. Miller." Rory said, escaping from the conversation.  
  
The couple walked out onto the terrace and sat on the side of the wall.  
  
"Thanks for getting me out of there," Rory said to Dean, lacing her fingers through his.  
  
"It wasn't for you. How can I be alone with you in a room full of people?" He joked. A smile on his face, his lips met Rory's and his hand slid around her waist. As the kiss deepened, her thin fingers ran through Dean's silky brown hair. Then--  
  
"Devil children!" Lorelai spat as she stalked over to them. They hastily break the kiss, and look up at her.  
  
"I don't care if I was interrupting your romance time. You are devil children! Why didn't you rescue me? Why?" Lorelai reprimanded them quietly. "Do you know what his favorite band is? KENNY G! And he likes the Hughleys!"  
  
"I'm sorry, Mom," Rory apologized, standing up.  
  
"So can we leave yet?" Lorelai begged her as they walk into the house.  
  
"How long have we been here?" Rory answered her question with a question.  
  
"A decade. A year. An hour? So what."  
  
Dean smiled at the bickering pair. "Stop smiling grocer boy." Lorelai snapped at him.  
  
"Sorry."  
  
They walk over to the buffet table, and Rory squealed, "Cream puffs!"  
  
Lorelai reached out and stopped Rory's eager hand, "No dear. You must only eat healthy food. Good food. Things with bran."  
  
"Mother!"  
  
"Hey babe, you make us stay, I make you suffer."  
  
"If we only stay for a half an hour can I have a cream puff?" Rory begged.  
  
"No. 15 minutes or no go."  
  
Dean grabs a cream puff and took a bite out of it. "Yum…" he laughed at the look on Rory's face. He put his arm over her shoulder as he realized how much he loved her.  
  
"FINE! Give me the cream puffs!" Rory caved, grabbing one of the delicious treats.  
  
"Yay!"  
  
After the three of them make small talk with more of the partygoers, Lorelai told her mother they have to go.  
  
"Lorelai! It's only 10:30!" Emily exclaimed.  
  
"I know, Mom, but—"  
  
"It's considered rude to leave a party this early, you know."  
  
"Mom—"  
  
"Are these the kind of manners you are teaching your daughter?"  
  
"We wanted to—"  
  
"Fine! Go!" Emily said, heading off into the center of the crowd.  
  
"Bye Grandma!" Rory called. 


	4. Crash

"I'm so glad we got out of there. We are going home to watch a movie and drink coffee. What kind of party doesn't have coffee?" Lorelai complained as they pulled out into the street.  
  
"The grandma kind," Rory smiled.  
  
Dean checked his mirror and changed lanes, saying "At least there were creampuffs."  
  
"Rory? Did I tell you about the time I stole all the cream puffs at one of their parties and took them to my room?"  
  
"Why would you do that?" Rory asked.  
  
"Well, I had a boy in there and he wasn't invited to the party so I brought him food," Lorelai stated.  
  
Dean and Rory laughed.  
  
"He was a very nice boy. He had long hair," Lorelai said from the backseat, leaning over to talk to them. "Great kisser, very sexy."  
  
"Mother. I do not need to hear this," Rory complained, covering her ears.  
  
"Fine. Don't listen to my wonderful stories. We'll turn on the radio. Dean, turn on the radio," Lorelai huffed.  
  
"The radio sucks," Dean commented, switching the stations and finding nothing but N'Sync and Mariah Carey.  
  
"Put on a CD then, boy! Don't waste time! I need the music!" Lorelai commandd him. When the crooning voice of Sarah McLachlan filled the car, Lorelai protested, "Wait, no! Not that CD!"  
  
"Mom," Rory taunted, "Why do you have this CD?"  
  
"Umm..it was a mistake?"  
  
"A mistake? Right. That's it. You secretive child," Rory laughed, then paused. "Well..I have it too."  
  
"We're freaks!" Lorelai laughed. "We like moody girl music!"  
  
Dean joked, "Rory, this should be our song. I Will Remember You, I love it."  
  
"Don't make fun of me," Rory protested. "It's very beautiful music."  
  
"I will remember you…will you remember me?" Crooned Dean, breaking into laughter.  
  
"Your voice sucks," Lorelai told him.  
  
"It does not!" Dean argued, looking over his shoulder at her.  
  
"DEAN WATCH OUT!" The brakes squealed from under them as Dean whipped around, his eyes widening at the car speeding in front of them. The crunch of breaking glass reached their ears as the two vehicles collided. The abrupt stop threw them forward, and out of the corner of her eye Rory could see Dean's head hit the steering wheel with a sickening thud. Her mother's hideous scream reached Rory's ears. The soft airbag that exploded in her face kept Rory from flying forward, but her head went sideways, slamming into the window. Darkness. 


	5. World of White

Rory awakened to a world of white. Blurry bodies moved around her, drifting in and out of focus.  
  
A faraway voice spoke to her, "Rory? Rory Gilmore? Can you hear me?"  
  
"Dean? Mom?" Rory tried to ask, but the burning pain in her face made her wince.  
  
"Don't try to talk, Rory. You're going to be okay, your grandparents are here," the voice said.  
  
"Rory, dear? Can you hear me?" a female voice questioned. Rory recognized it…but from where?"  
  
Another voice broke in, "Rory? Rory, we love you." Rory forced her eyes open and saw two faces hovering over her. It was to much of an effort to keep her eye open, so Rory let them close.  
  
"Alright, let's leave her. We can try later," The first voice said. Rory's eyes closed again, blocking out the world.  
  
"Rory, wake up." Rory heard her grandmother say.  
  
"Grandma?" Rory mumbled, opening her eyes.  
  
"Yes, dear. And Grandpa too."  
  
"Rory? Rory how are you feeling."  
  
"Ummm…okay," Rory said, the two worried people coming into focus. "Where am I?"  
  
"The hospital, dear," her grandmother said.  
  
"Why? I'm so tired.." Rory sighed, the weight of her eyelids forcing them closed.  
  
"Okay, just go to sleep then," her grandfather said, "We'll be here when you wake up."  
  
"Where's Dean? Mom?" Rory asked, trying to fighting sleep.  
  
"Shhh…just sleep."  
  
Rory sunk back into dreamworld, questions dancing in her head.  
  
  
  
The next time Rory, awoke, daylight filled the hospital room. She groaned as she tried to raise her head, taking in the white walls and medicinal scent.  
  
"Rory?" her grandmother cried. "Oh Rory, are you alright?"  
  
"I'm okay…kind of groggy…" Rory told her, sinking back into the pillows.  
  
"Your grandfather just went to get coffee," Emily explained to her.  
  
"Yum…coffee. I want."  
  
"You don't change, do you?" Emily laughed.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"You don't remember, dear?" Rory shook her head. "There was a car crash…on the way home from our party…" A tear slipped out of the older woman's eye.  
  
"What, Grandma, what is it? Are mom and Dean badly hurt?" Rory asked, suddenly remembering. The crash. The glass…the blood. She could remember the blood..  
  
"Maybe we should wait for the doctor. Dr. Greenbaum, he's very kind—"  
  
"TELL ME!" Rory croaked, bile seeping up in her throat  
  
"Rory…Your mom and Dean…" Emily started, then trailed off, more tears falling from her eyes. She angrily wiped them away.  
  
"WHAT?" Rory said, her voice shaking. Nononono…  
  
"They didn't make it."  
  
"NO!!" Rory cried. "No no no no…" She kept saying as a nurse rushed into her room, followed by her grandfather. Tears streamed down her cheeks, blurring her vision.  
  
"Rory," Richard said, his voice full of pain. He reached out and held her hand. "I'm sorry—"  
  
"YOU'RE LYING!" Rory yelled, ripping her hand out of the grip of her grandfather's. "They're fine and your lying why are you lying? WHY?" She sobbed as the nurse grabbed her arm and put the needle in.  
  
Her grandparents faded out of sight as she repeated over and over, "You're lying you're lying you're lying."  
  
  
  
"Rory!" Dean smiled as he came into the hospital room, followed by her mother.  
  
"Dean, Mom, they said you were dead why would they say that?" Rory cried as both of the most important people in her life sat beside her on the bed.  
  
"It's okay, Rory, we're fine," Lorelai said, smoothing the hair on Rory's head.  
  
"Ah, that hurts," Rory complained to her, wincing.  
  
"Your head will be fine. Nothing could stop you, not just a silly head wound," Dean smiled as tears fell from his gorgeous eyes.  
  
"What do you mean? Why are crying?"  
  
Lorelai smiled, crying also, "We're in pain for you. Just be strong, honey. It will hurt."  
  
"What will hurt? Wait!" Rory protested as the two of them walked away from her.  
  
Dean turned, grabbing Lorelai's hand. "We love you Rory. We'll always love you." Suddenly the wall behind the two disappeared, and a car sped up from out of nowhere. The two of them climbed into it, and the car droveoff.  
  
"Wait!" Rory screamed, seeing the car about to collide with another. As the crashing noises reached her ears, she awokewith a start.  
  
"Rory?" Emily asked, looking up from her magazine.  
  
"Hmmm…" Rory said, sitting up.  
  
"You shouldn't do that, dear," Richard said from next to Emily.  
  
"I'm fine," Rory said quietly, looking out the window. A tear started to form in her eye.  
  
"How are you feeling, Rory?" An older man said as he came into the room. Rory quickly wiped the tear away. "I'm Dr. Alexander Greenbaum," the man says, pulling up a chair.  
  
"It's nice to meet you," Rory lied. It's not nice. He's here and they're not, she thought.  
  
"You seem to be recovering quite nicely, you should be released within 3 days. We just want to do some X-rays, make sure your head is truly alright," he told her, his voice smooth like butter. A good docter's voice, Rory thought.  
  
"Alright."  
  
"Rory, I am very sorry for your loss. I think it would be beneficial for you to speak to a therapist. I can recommend some exceptional ones in your town."  
  
"There are therapists in Stars Hollow?" Rory asked.  
  
"Rory..I think you will be moving in with your grandfather and I when you are released…" Emily said.  
  
"Oh." Rory conceded quietly.  
  
Dr. Greenbaum's pager started to beep, and he rose, "I have to be going. I'll speak with you later?" He said to Rory.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Alright, goodbye then," He left the room.  
  
"Rory, friends of yours are outside, Jess and Lane I believe. Should we let them in?" Richard asked.  
  
"That would be alright," Rory said absentmindedly, her gaze returning to the window as she thought about her Mom. I'll never speak to her again…Rory cried in her head.  
  
"Well, we'll just leave you alone then," Emily saidas she and Richard left the room.  
  
"Rory?" Lane's voice said from behind her. She turned around and saw her two friends.  
  
"Hi you guys," She said, smiling sadly.  
  
"Oh, Rory, how are feeling?" Jess said, sitting down in one of the chairs.  
  
"I hurt, but that's okay."  
  
Jess and Lane looked at each-other, and Lane said, "Rory, I am so sorry.." and started to cry.  
  
"Please don't cry. You'll make me cry," Rory begged her, looking down in her lap.  
  
"I'm sorry…" Lane apologized, wiping away her tears.  
  
Jess took Rory's hand and squeezed it, telling her "Luke couldn't come, but we're here if you need anything, Rory. Anything."  
  
"I know," Rory said quietly.  
  
One of the nurses entered the room, and told Rory's closes friends (Now that Dean and Mom are gone, Rory thought) that it was time for them to go.  
  
"Rory, we'll see you later okay?" Lane said, leaning over and kissing Rory's cheek.  
  
"Goodbye, Rory," Jess said to her, letting go of her hand.  
  
"Bye," Rory replied, barely audible, and her gaze returned to the window. 


	6. I Will Remember You

"Rory?" Emily asked as Richard helped Rory out of the car at their house.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Rory…we need to plan your mother's funeral," Emily said hesitantly.  
  
"Alright," Rory agreed. A sigh of relief escaped from her grandmother's lips, probably in relief that Rory didn't start crying. She hadn't cried, not since the first day.  
  
"Do you think," Emily said, pausing to sniffle, "That your mother would wish to be buried in Stars Hollow?"  
  
"Yes. She would."  
  
"Well, would you wish it to be on the same day as Dean's funeral?"  
  
"Yes. May I go to my room now?" Rory asked, pain shooting through her heart.  
  
"Yes, of course, Richard, will you help her up the stairs?"  
  
"I'm alright. I can do it."  
  
Rory collapsed on her bed, tears building in her chest, but they didn't, or couldn't, reach her eyes.  
  
"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust," The minister saidas Lorelai's casket was lowered into the ground.  
  
Rory could hear the sounds of crying coming from all sides. She gripped tighter to Luke's arm, not looking up at his face, fearing that he too would be in tears. Jess's hand on her shoulder did nothing to comfort her. Anyone looking at her would know the sadness she felt. It was evident in her eyes, her gestures. Even the fact that no tears came out of her eyes, at her mother's funeral, or Dean's that had taken place earlier that day.  
  
"Rory?" Her grandfather said to her. She released Luke's arm, and looked at him. He looks tired, Rory thought, and much older.  
  
"Rory, do you want to go get something to eat?" he asked her.  
  
"No. You all go on ahead. I'm going to stay here for a minute."  
  
One by one the mourners left the cemetery, giving Rory hugs and kisses as they went. Luke and Jess were the last to leave. Rory couldn't look Luke in the eye, knowing the love he has felt for her mother was killing him.  
  
She was alone in the graveyard, staring at her mother's grave. She raised her eyes, and saw Dean's a few rows away. She walked over to his grave, her heels sinking the freshly turned dirt. She kneeled in front of his headstone, tracing his name with her fingers.  
  
"I love you, Dean," She said, laying a single white rose among the many other bouquets. "I love you, and I'll miss you."  
  
Returning to her mother's final resting place, she placed the lily. Mom wouldn't want me to sob and claw at her headstone, Rory thought, scenes like that in movies always made her laugh. So Rory just sang to Lorelai the last song to reach her ears, and meant it for the first boy she had loved too.  
  
"I will remember you…will you remember me? Don't let your life, pass you bye. Weep not for the memories," Rory sang softly, then smiled a final goodbye. 


	7. Back To Chilton

******Rory didn't return to Chilton that year. With only three weeks of school remaining, she took her assignments at home with the excuse that she was still recuperating. Once she packed up everything in the home she had shared with Lorelai, she moved in to her grandparent's home in Hartford and didn't return to Stars Hollow. She spoke with Luke, Lane and Jess a few times on the phone, but their calls dwindled and finally ceased. Over the summer Rory wrote and read, was quiet and distant. She didn't cry, and kept her pain inside. She dreaded school starting up again, knowing the questions that would come about the noticeable scar stretching across her forehead.******  
  
Tristan Dugrey walked into Chilton on the first day of the new school year, looking around at his familiar surroundings. He was back for his senior year at Chilton, leaving military school behind. He sauntered through the halls, relishing the looks he got from his class mates. He paused as he recognized the back of a head. He'd spend hours of his life staring at the back of that head in class, and could pick it out in a lineup.  
  
"Mary, Mary, did you miss me?" He asked, walking up to Rory Gilmore.  
  
He sharply caught his breath as she turned to face him. Her lovely skin was pale, with two dark circles under her eyes. Her eyes, the ice blue that had captivated him were dull and lifeless, full of pain. Her beautiful shiny hair hung limply around her face, and her uniform was noticeably looser on her much thinner frame. And that scar…a scar slashed across Rory's forehead, cutting from her hairline to her eyebrow.  
  
"Hi Tristan," Rory said, "I'm really not in the mood to talk right now."  
  
"Rory, are you okay?" Tristan asked, stepping over to her.  
  
"I'm fine," she said, closing her locker door and walking away. Her walk had no bounce like it used to, it was…forlorn. Pathetic.  
  
After standing in shock for a minute, Tristan looked around for someone who could tell him what was wrong with Rory. "Paris!" Tristan said, striding up to Paris Gellar. "How've you been?" He inwardly smiled at the look of shock and pleasure on her face.  
  
"I'm fine. What are you doing back here, Tristan?"  
  
"Oh, I heard how much everyone missed me, especially you, and I just had to come back to see you!" Tristan flirted.  
  
"What do you want, Tristan?" Paris said, her eyes flashing.  
  
"It's that obvious, huh?" He asked.  
  
"Your tactics are completely see through. Now ask me so I can say no."  
  
"I was just wondering if something happened to Rory…she seems different." The look of disgust and boredom instantly dropped from Paris's face, replaced by one of sadness and pity.  
  
"You don't know?" She asked, her voice soft.  
  
"If I knew, would I be asking you?" Tristan asked.  
  
Paris grabbed Tristan's arm and pulled him into the nearby empty classroom. "From what I've heard, this is what happened. A few weeks before school got out last year, Rory, her mother, and Rory's boyfriend—"  
  
"Dean?" Tristan asked, envying the guy that could be referred to as Rory's boyfriend.  
  
"Yes, Dean. They were riding in a car, I think Dean was driving…and they…" Paris paused.  
  
"What?"  
  
"They crashed. Dean and Rory's mom…they were both killed."  
  
Tristan sat down heavily on the desk behind him. "Oh my God."  
  
"I know…that's how she got the scar…she was the only one that survived. She lives with her grandparents now and—" The bell rang.  
  
"Come on, Tristan. We have to go."  
  
Tristan stood slowly and walked out of the room. Poor Rory…no wonder her face had that look of pain…  
  
He walked into his history room, immediately focusing his blue eyes on Rory. He slid into desk next to her, glancing over in her direction as casually as possible.  
  
Her eyes turned to meet his, blue connecting on blue. Tristan gave her a small smile, and the one she returned broke his heart. Rory's eyes returned to the front of the room, where her teacher began outlining the course. All around him, students took out pen and paper to take dutiful notes, but from the corner of his eye he could see Rory just staring into space, not listening to what the teacher was saying.  
  
She sat like that for the whole period, then escaped the room as soon as possible. Tristan attempted to follow her down the hall, but he had no luck.  
  
Everyone knows, everyone's looking Rory thought to herself as she walked down the hall. She shuffled into her next classroom, and took a seat.  
  
"Rory?" A male asked from the front of the room. Rory raised her head and saw Max Medina.  
  
"Hi Mr. Medina," Rory greeted him quietly.  
  
"Rory, is something the matter?" He asked as he walked over to her desk.  
  
Rory looked up at him, dreading what she would have to do. "Mr. Medina…" she looked around at the students entering the room. "I"ll tell you after class."  
  
He nodded, and walked towards the front of the room. Even though Lorelai was no longer a part of his life, he still cared for her daughter and wished to do everything he could to help her. He, as Tristan had, noticed that Rory was no longer an attentive, good student. Max thought that, through the whole period, Rory had not heard a single word he said.  
  
When the bell rang, Rory got out of her seat and trudged to the front of the room.  
  
"Rory, can you tell me what's wrong?" Mr. Medina gently asked her.  
  
"Before summer started…Mom and Dean…." Rory paused, tugging at her hair, "They're gone."  
  
Max gasped, and Rory walked out of the room.  
  
Outside in the hall, Rory heavily leaned against the wall, closing her eyes. In her head, she was singing. 


	8. Music and Dreams

"Rory?" Tristan asked as he walked over to the bench Rory was sitting on during lunch.  
  
"What, Tristan?"  
  
"Can I sit here?" Tristan questioned.  
  
"If you want to," Rory said, looking back down at her book.  
  
After a minute, Rory looks back up, "What? No witty remarks? No teasing?"  
  
Tristan looked down at his hands.  
  
"I'm not made of eggshells, damn-it!" Rory exclaimed, jumping up and dropping her book. Tristan looked up with a start. "I wish everyone would stop treating me like a delicate flower. I'm FINE! Either treat me like you always do, like crap, or get the HELL away from me!" Rory finished, grabbing her backpack and running off.  
  
"Rory!" Tristan tried to call after her, but she paid no attention to him.  
  
Tristan spent the rest of the day thinking of Rory. He'd never heard her swear. He couldn't possibly understand the pain she was going through, but God how he wanted to. He wanted to be there to comfort her, give her a shoulder to cry on. Kissing her tears away…..  
  
You jerk, Tristan thought to himself, You're thinking of kissing her when she's mourning her boyfriend and mother.  
  
What she had said to him…that he had treated her like crap…that had hurt him. He knew she didn't like his nicknames or teasing….but did she really think that he was trying to be mean to her? He hadn't meant to hurt her. Rory was the only girl he'd ever met that he'd developed such deep feelings for. Scared of what he was feelings he had reverted to that 1st grade mentality where you teased the girl you liked.  
  
She's so different, Tristan mused as he got into his car, Of course she is, something like that would change anyone, but she seems so depressed.  
  
Tristan drove off, never once thinking of anything but Rory Gilmore.  
  
  
  
Rory climbed into her car, the car Dean had made for her, the car she refused to leave for a BMW or whatever it was her grandmother wanted to buy for her.  
  
When at her grandparent's house (Rory still couldn't think of it as hers) she usually spent most of her time in her room. Music was her only comfort, and she listened to anything and everything.  
  
The one CD she kept close at all times was the Sarah McLachlan CD. She had memorized the words to every song on the album, relating them to her relationship with Dean or her mom.  
  
That afternoon, when she got home from school, she immediately went to her room and turned it on.  
  
"The winter's here, cold and bitter, it's chilled us to the bone, we haven't seen the sun for weeks, to long to far from home…" she sang softly. Lying down on her bed, she curled into the fetal position, clutching the bracelet on her wrist and the stuffed bear her mother had given her for a present. She drifted off into sleep.  
  
"If all of the strength and all of the courage, come and lift me from this place, I know I could love you much better than this…" Lorelai sang to Rory, running her fingers through her hair.  
  
"Hi Mom," Rory said sleepily. "Where's Dean?"  
  
"He'll be her, he's letting go," Lorelai said.  
  
"Mom, why are you talking like that? What's going on?" Rory asked, then gasped. Her mother's skin was slowly peeling away, worms were crawling out of her eye sockets, blood was dripping from her nose.  
  
"You put me in the ground where it's dark," Lorelai said, her lips melting away from her face.  
  
"Mom!" Rory cried, then awoke, breathless.  
  
"Rory? Come for dinner!" Her grandmother called up the stairs to her. Rory dragged herself of the bed, changing out of her Chilton uniform and into a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.  
  
She walked downstairs, her dream running through her head. This was a new one. She had them every night, without fail. Sometimes it was just Dean, sometimes just her mom. Occasionally they were together, and those were the worst. She hadn't gotten a good night's sleep since the accident, and always woke up scared and guilty.  
  
I should be with them. It's my fault they're gone, Rory thought as she entered the dining room.  
  
"Hello, Rory," Richard said as she sunk into her chair.  
  
"How was your first day back?" Her grandmother questioned as the meal was sat down in front of them.  
  
"It was fine," Rory said, picking up her fork and moving the food around on her plate.  
  
Richard and Emily looked at eachother across the table, concern shining in both sets of eyes.  
  
There was little conversation at the dinner table that night. Less than there usually was, which wasn't saying much.  
  
Rory returned to her room, stripping and getting under the covers.  
  
"Mom?" she whispered to the empty room, wishing she was back home, wishing the reason she wouldn't get a lot of sleep was because Lorelai would come into her room early in the morning. Wishing tomorrow she could go out with Dean, wishing she could go back and not talk to Dean. She thought it was her fault. She distracted him. It was her fault and she should have died instead. 


	9. Epiphanies

If that is what she wants, that's what I'll give her, Tristan thought to himself as he pulled into a parking space at Chilton the next morning. He had spent the night tossing and turning, falling asleep for a few minutes only to awake with a new idea of how to help her. Tristan rejected each and every one of them, deciding that they were all useless. At 4 o'clock in the morning he finally decided that he would act according to Rory's wish. If she wanted everything to be normal, if she wanted him to tease her and call her Mary…that's what he'd do. Maybe then…maybe he could get close enough to her to help her.  
  
"Mary Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow?" He asked her as he walked up to her, silently kicking himself. He'd used this before, he knew. She'd call him on it and he'd look like a fucking idiot.  
  
Rory turned to look at him, the circles deeper under her eyes then they had been the day before. She smiled a small, pleased smile, and closed her locker, "Without any help from you, Tristan, thanks."  
  
"So, Mare, did you miss me while I was gone? Think of me every night before you went to sleep?" Tristan asked.  
  
A shadow flickered across her face, an emotion Tristan could not quite place, but was gone in an instant, "Tristan, Tristan. I see boot camp didn't beat the ego out of you as I had hoped."  
  
Her comebacks didn't have the same bite they used to, the same pep, but it was something, Tristan decided. At least she was talking.  
  
Tristan walked beside her to their class, deciding that was enough for one day. He'd asked his friend from military school about it on the phone last night, since he had lost his father when he was 13. He said to not try too much at once, to take it slow, just give her time to mourn. And that's what Tristan wanted to do. Tristan just wanted to help her. Last night, as he was lying in bed, he decided something. Even though he knew she'd never feel the way he did about her, he cared deeply for Rory and wanted her to just be happy again. To smile without that underlying pain. To laugh. He'd do anything to make her better. No matter what it took.  
  
  
  
Tristan went up to Rory again at lunch that day, despite the taunting he received from his friends.  
  
"Whatcha reading?" He asked as he sat down next to her, pulling out his sandwich and soda.  
  
She looked down at her book, and told him, "Emily Dickinson poetry book."  
  
"Wasn't she the crazy one?" Tristan asked, knowing full and well that she was a recluse but he wanted to start a conversation with Rory about something that interested her.  
  
"She wasn't crazy, just very private," Rory protested, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Tristan gently took the book out of her hand and opened to a random page.  
  
"From us she wandered now a year, Her tarrying unkown; If wilderness prevent her feet, Or that ethereal zone," Tristan recited, hoping this poem had no special meaning for Rory.  
  
"That's one of my favorites," Rory said quietly, giving him a small smile that made his heart jump.  
  
Tristan inwardly cheered in delight at the progress he had made. She seemed better, maybe? Just maybe.  
  
He picked another poem, and started to recite it out loud. Rory listened quietly, making comments along the way. Tristan was careful not to read any with the word death in the, surprised how hard that was. It appeared Emily Dickinson had a weird obsession with death and pain.  
  
When the bell rang to signal the end of the period, Tristan attempted to give the book back to Rory.  
  
"You can keep it," Rory said, "I have more."  
  
"Thanks…" Tristan said as she walked off. Tristan looked at the book in his hand, looking at the name in the inside cover. He traced her name with his fingers.  
  
Lorelai Leigh Gilmore.  
  
  
  
"You forgot me," Dean said to Rory as she slept on her bed.  
  
"What? I didn't!" Rory cried, walking over to him.  
  
"You don't love me anymore, how could you betray me?" He asked her, grabbing her shoulders tightly and shaking her.  
  
"Please, Dean, no, I love you, please!" She begged. Her room morphed into a hospital room, with Dean lying in the bed.  
  
"You pulled my life support, you know. You'd rather he lived than me," He said, and Rory watched his heart monitor slowly melt into a flat- line.  
  
"Dean, I love you!" Rory cried, bending over him.  
  
"You betrayed me, Rory."  
  
"No no no!" Rory awoke with a start.  
  
I did, I betrayed him, Rory thought as she splashed her sweating face with water. She stared at her disheveled appearance in the mirror. I can't talk to Tristan, I love Dean. I can't forget him. 


	10. I Want To Live Alone

Tristan went up to his room that evening when he got home and pulled out the poetry book Rory had given him. He flipped through it, smiling at the notes Rory had written beside her favorite poems.  
  
He found one poem that he read over and over again. Entitled "Not In Vain", the words shot straight to Tristan's heart.  
  
"If I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain; If I can ease one life the aching, Or cool one pain, Or help one fainting robin Unto his nest again, I shall not live in vain." Tristan whispered to his empty room. Rory's pale, drawn face swam before his eyes. He wanted to ease her life the aching. He hoped that today was a step in the right direction, one foot towards her being herself again.  
  
Tristan knew that she would never fully recover from the pain she must have. He knew how close she and her mother were, just like best friends. And no matter how much he had disliked Dean, and called him "bag boy", he knew that Rory had loved him deeply. It was only his jealousy that had caused him to treat Dean like he had, he knew that anyone Rory would be acquainted with had to be a good person.  
  
  
  
"Rory!" Tristan called, running up to her as she got out of her car that morning. "Listen to this!"  
  
"Leave me alone, Tristan!" Rory yelled at him, sidestepping his body and walking across the courtyard.  
  
Tristan's face fell as she cruelly ignored him. "Rory, what's wrong?" he asked her, following her into the building.  
  
"I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to be near you. Just leave me alone."  
  
"Wait…" Tristan said, crushed. He paused in the middle of the hallway, watching her walk away. His hand fell, letting the poetry book fall limply to his side.  
  
No, he thought to himself, seeing her sit down and hunch her shoulders. She can't just ignore everyone and live alone. She has to talk to me….  
  
  
  
"Rory, tell me what's wrong!" Tristan begged her, following her out of the building after school that day. She had disappeared during lunch, and he had spent the entire period trying to find her.  
  
"Just go away, please," Rory asked him, fumbling with her keys to open her car door. When she pulled it open, Tristan put his hand on it and held it shut.  
  
"No! Not until you tell me what's wrong!" Tristan commanded her.  
  
"Nothing's WRONG, Tristan. Everything's fine, everything's fucking brilliant," she told him, her voice low and full of sorrow.  
  
"If everything's so great, what was up this morning?" Tristan asked her, trying to keep his voice low and caring. Low and caring, don't make her sadder. Just be there for her, he thought as he looked at Rory.  
  
"Does something always have to be up? Maybe I just don't want to talk to you, Tristan. I don't want to be friends," Rory said, again reaching for the door handle.  
  
"Why not? If you think I'm an arrogant asshole, fine. If you just don't like me, FINE. But give me an answer!" Tristan said, his voice rising. Why wouldn't she let him help her? Why was she pushing him away?  
  
She looked down at the ground, at the trail of ants crawling in front of her feet. She thought about how easy it would be to step on them, take their lives. Do ants have mothers? She thought to herself. Boyfriends? Does anyone miss them when they get killed by an insensitive human?  
  
"Rory?" Tristan asked gently, putting one finger under her chin and lifting her face up so she met his eyes.  
  
"Don't touch me!" Rory screamed, knocking his hand away. While he was off balance, she pulled open the car door and started the engine, pulling out of the parking lot.  
  
Tristan watched her go, wanting to cry.  
  
She hated him, and there had to be a reason. 


	11. Blurry Knives

Tristan silently cursed the weekend, the time he usually looked forward to. He wouldn't be able to talk to Rory until Monday, unless he went to her house…NO. He couldn't harass her. She obviously didn't want to talk to him, so he would have to take is slow. Ease into a friendship. Get her to open up…  
  
He entered his room, flicking on his CD player and turning up the volume. The smooth, heavy sounds filled his head, and he fell back onto the couch in his room, letting the lyrics absorb in his mind.  
  
Everything's so blurry  
  
And everyone's so fake  
  
And everybody's empty  
  
And everything is  
  
So messed up  
  
Pre-occupied without you  
  
I cannot live at all  
  
My whole world  
  
Surrounds you  
  
I stumble then I crawl  
  
You could be my someone  
  
You could be my scene  
  
You know that  
  
I'll protect you  
  
From all of the obscene  
  
I wonder what you're doing  
  
Imagine where you are  
  
There's oceans in between us  
  
But that's not very far  
  
Can you take it all away?  
  
Can you take it all away?  
  
When you shoved it  
  
In my face  
  
This pain you gave to me  
  
Can you take it all away?  
  
Can you take it all away?  
  
  
  
"Rory, hold on," Lorelai said, coming up behind Rory as she stared out the window at the moon.  
  
"Hold on to what?" Rory asked her, turning around to see her mother twirling around the room.  
  
She began to sing, "Hold on….hold on to yourself….for this is gonna hurt like hell…."  
  
"What's going to hurt? Mom?" Rory begged of her. Her mom started spinning faster and faster, flying around the room.  
  
"Hold on….hold on to yourself….only time will tell…" She sang, laughing as she spun round and round. "My love, you know that you're my best friend, you know that I'd do anything for you…" She finished, and turned to face Rory.  
  
"Mom?"  
  
"You should have warned me." And she collapsed onto the floor.  
  
  
  
"RORY!" Emily said, shaking her granddaughter. "Wake up!" Rory twisted and turned on the bed, moaning and screaming. "RORY!"  
  
Rory awoke with a start, looking around her room.  
  
"Grandma?" Rory asked, confused. She rubbed her eyes, yawning.  
  
"You slept straight through dinner last night, and it's morning now. What was your dream about?" Emily asked, sitting down next to Rory on the bed, smoothing back her granddaughter's hair and tucking it behind her ears.  
  
"Nothing…" Rory said, climbing off the bed. "I should shower, I'll be late." She walked into the bathroom.  
  
"Rory? It's Saturday…" Emily said, walking behind her. "Rory, I know you said you didn't want to, and I didn't push, but I really think you should talk to the therapist Dr. Greenbaum recommended."  
  
"No, really, I'm fine," Rory soothed her, "The dream was about a scary movie I watched last night."  
  
Rory could tell her grandmother didn't believe her, but desperately wanted to.  
  
"Alright, if you are sure you're okay?"  
  
"Really, I'm good!" Rory smiled, giving her a quick hug.  
  
"Well, I'm going out shopping today, would you like to come?"  
  
"No, I think I'm going to stay here. I didn't sleep very well last night, the scary dreams and all."  
  
"Okay, then I'll see you tonight."  
  
Rory nodded her consent, and Emily walked out of the room.  
  
Rory waited until she was sure Emily had left, and wandered down to the kitchen. She thanked God that the maid wasn't there today. She sat down in one of the chairs, flipping through the newspaper but not reading any of the articles.  
  
She stood, deciding to make herself some coffee. She pulled open a drawer, searching for the filters. The maid must have rearranged, because the drawer she opened had only knives.  
  
She looked at the glistening blades, picking one up and examing it.  
  
It's your fault, a voice hissed in her ear. She jumped, the knife pricking the tip of her finger.  
  
That didn't hurt, Rory thought, watching the bright red blood bubble sit on her finger. In fact, that feels good.  
  
She took the knife and gently pressed it on to her wrist. The knife blurred before her eyes, dropping out of focus. She sighed as the tears that wouldn't come out of her eyes were released in the dripping crimson blood. 


	12. Worried

"Better?" Lorelai asked Rory.  
  
"Much, and I don't know why…." Rory replied, inspecting the cut on her arm.  
  
"It let's loose the pain, the blame," Lorelai told her, "Hey, I made a rhyme. "  
  
Rory smiled at her, "You seem better?"  
  
"Right, I'm better. I'm dead but I'm better. Don't worry." Lorelai retorted, pressing on Rory's wound.  
  
Rory watched the blood start to seep out again. Lorelai pressed harder, and held out her arm. Rory watched identical cuts on identical arms drip blood.  
  
Tristan got up early the next morning, and changed into his running clothes. After being in military school, where they did such rigorous exercise every single day, it was soothing to him to be able to get out his aggressions by running a few miles.  
  
He slipped on his shoes, and snuck out of his house, glad he didn't wake his parents.  
  
He started to run, not knowing where his feet were taking him and letting the rhythm of his feet pounding on the cement block out all thoughts of Rory.  
  
When he finally stopped to rest, he realized where he had gone.  
  
He looked up at the Gilmore house, recognizing it from the parties that had been held there.  
  
Oh, shit. Tristan thought, sliding behind the wall. A car was pulling out of the driveway.  
  
"Hello," Emily said to Tristan as she rolled down the window.  
  
"Hello, Mrs. Gilmore," Tristan greeted her, "I'm Tristan Dugrey, I'm a classmate of Rory's from Chilton?"  
  
"Oh yes, you're Greg and Laura's child," Emily smiled, happy Rory had a friend at school, especially such a handsome and affluent one. "It's nice to meet you, you can just go on in."  
  
Tristan told her that he just happened to be running by the house and didn't plan to go in. In split-second decision, Tristan asked her to wait. "Mrs. Gilmore, since the accident," he started, then paused, "Has she been okay?"  
  
Emily looked at him, concerned. "I know she's been so different, which is certainly understandable, but she acts mostly normal."  
  
"Oh, I know," Tristan said, "A trauma like that would change anyone, but at school she seems so lost."  
  
"Yes, but you're right. She'd not just sad…" Emily looked at Tristan. "Can I trust you not to repeat what I say to anyone?"  
  
"Of course, Mrs. Gilmore. I care about Rory," Tristan told her.  
  
I can tell he feels for her, Emily thought, seeing the look of pain and love on Tristan's face.  
  
"She hasn't cried, Tristan. Not at the funeral, not when she had to leave Stars Hollow. Not since the first day in the hospital," Emily started, "And she'd been having dreams….she claims they're from watching scary movies, but she has this look in her eyes…."  
  
Tristan thanked Mrs. Gilmore for her help, and said he hoped to talk to her later. She drove off, and he looked up at the huge house, hoping to catch a glimpse of Rory in the window.  
  
After a few minutes, he ran off.  
  
  
  
"Richard, I am so worried about Rory," Emily said that night as she sat with Richard in his office.  
  
"I think we just need to be patient, Emily," Richard replied, putting his hand on her shoulder. "She needs time to mourn, like we did." He sadly leaned back in his chair and put on his glasses.  
  
"I talked to Tristan Dugrey today, and he seems so concerned about her. I just don't want her to live like this."  
  
"Maybe we should have her go to that therapist."  
  
"But she seems perfectly normal and adjusted most of the time. If she can convince us, and herself, that she's fine, I don't think that going to a therapist will help her," Emily sighed.  
  
The married couple looked back down at their respective books, praying that somehow Rory would heal.  
  
  
  
Max Medina dialed the phone number of the Gilmore house, praying it wouldn't be Rory who answered.  
  
"Hello?" an accented female voice spoke from the other end.  
  
"Hello, this is Max Medina, a teacher from Chilton. May I please speak to Mr. or Mrs. Gilmore?" He asked, looking at the picture of him and Lorelai on his bookshelf.  
  
"Yes, one minute please," the woman said.  
  
"Yes?" Richard said.  
  
"This is Max Medina, I'm a teacher from Rory's school?" Max said. After a pause, he added. "I was engaged to Lorelai."  
  
"Yes, Mr. Medina," Richard replied.  
  
"I just wanted to say how sorry I am for your loss. Lorelai…she was an amazing person."  
  
"Yes, that she was."  
  
"I was actually…I'm worried about Rory. She hasn't been paying attention in class like she used to, and when I gave a pop quiz on material from last year she did extremely poorly." Max hesitated, not sure if he should go on.  
  
"Rory has been trying to…get back into the swing of things," Richard said, adjusting his glasses.  
  
"I know, and I want to help her," Max hastily agreed. "Lorelai was special to me, and Rory is too."  
  
After a minute of talk, the two men hung up. Max sighed, and again stared at Lorelai's photo.  
  
  
  
"Jess? Get out here!" Luke yelled upstairs at the diner.  
  
"Coming, hold on!" Jess screamed back, then appeared in a torn t- shirt and jeans.  
  
"Lane's here," Luke said, pouring her a cup of coffee. "I'll leave you two—"  
  
"Actually, Luke. I kind of wanted to talk to both of you," Lane said, taking a sip.  
  
"About what?" Jess mumbled, picking up a towel and wiping a spill of syrup off the counter.  
  
"Rory," Lane replied, and the two men's heads instantly shot up.  
  
"Have you heard from her?" Luke asked.  
  
"No, that's what I wanted to ask you. When was the last time you talked to her?"  
  
"A while ago," Jess sighed. "She never returned our calls, and when we did get her on the phone—"  
  
"She hardly spoke?" Lane finished.  
  
"Right." Jess agreed.  
  
"Maybe we should go to her house, talk to her," Luke said. "She might need us….."  
  
"I'm worried. Last time I talked to her, she seemed so depressed. I think she needs our help," Lane confessed.  
  
Worried. That they all agreed. 


	13. Questioning

"Little cuts, little cuts," Rory mumbled to herself as she pressed the knife against her pale wrist. She looked at the red lines crisscrossing up and down her arms.  
  
Dean, she carved into the skin on her upper arm. Mom, she carved into the other. She locked the knives into  
  
Pain like theirs, she thought as she crawled into bed.  
  
"Thank you," their voices said in the empty room.  
  
  
  
Rory awoke the next morning, liking the throbbing pain in her arms. She got out of bed and pulled the crumpled Chilton uniform off the floor.  
  
Glancing in the mirror, her eyes focused on the noticeable marks. She pulled off her top and replaced it with the long-sleeved Chilton issue, not caring that it would be much too warm.  
  
She walked out of her room and down the stairs.  
  
"Rory! Eat something," her grandmother ordered her as she tried to sneak past the dining room. "It's delicious."  
  
"No thank you, really," Rory said, thinking up a lie in her head. "I have to get to school early. I'm meeting someone."  
  
"Take a muffin with you, then," Emily said, handing her one. "And some coffee."  
  
"Thank you. I will drink it in the car," Rory promised, not mentioning anything about the muffin she meant to toss in the garbage.  
  
Rory got to her car without being interrupted by her grandfather, managed to start the engine after a few tries, and drove to school.  
  
  
  
Tristan saw her pull into the parking lot, and had to restrain himself from running over there. Give her space, he thought to himself, watching her get out of the car and lock the door.  
  
Why is she wearing long sleeves? Tristan thought as she walked into the school. He followed her at a safe distance, watching her open and shut her locker without removing anything and bump into a football player. All the stuff tumbled out of her back, and Tristan ran over to help her.  
  
Rory looked up and met his eyes.  
  
"Here," Tristan said to her, handing her one of her notebooks.  
  
Rory quickly looked down, and quickly gathered everything up.  
  
"Why do you carry a letter opener?" Tristan asked her, confused. He handed it to her and she quickly shoved it away.  
  
"In case I have to open a letter," she replied quickly, zipping up her backpack.  
  
"Rory, if I did anything to offend you…" Tristan started.  
  
He looks hurt, Rory thought to herself, trying to ignore Dean's indignant voice in her head saying she betrayed him. "No, it's just…I was in a bad mood yesterday." She finished lamely.  
  
She's talking to me! Tristan thought joyfully. "Can I walk with you to class?"  
  
Rory looked at him, and replied in the affirmative.  
  
Ecstatic, Tristan walked silently beside her into the room.  
  
He sat beside her, and saw her reach into her bag and grab a pen.  
  
What was that? He gasped, seeing a red cut peeking out under her sleeve. No, it was nothing. A scratch.  
  
Rory sunk back into her seat, doodling on her notebook cover.  
  
What was that? Just a scratch. It was deep. Tristan argued with himself throughout the day.  
  
Is she hurting herself? 


	14. Surprises

"No no no!" Rory pleaded, trying to start Dean's car. The engine screeched, whined, and she leaned her head on the wheel, banging it a few times. "It's fine it's fine." Dean's car. It's all she had and it was FINE! She tried again, turning the key, but it wouldn't start. She hit the steering wheel and swore, reaching for the knife in her bag.  
  
"Car trouble, Rory?" Tristan asked, leaning down and tapping on her window. She looked up at him, and rolled down the glass. "Can I help?"  
  
Rory quickly shook her head, not catching the crushed look on Tristan's face when she said, "It'll be fine. Or I'll take the bus." A look of disappointment and hurt.  
  
"Oh, no you won't. Get out and come over to my car," He told her, pulling open the door to her car and helping her out.  
  
"No!" Dean whispered in her ear.  
  
"I can't," Rory said, trying to keep from following him as he grabbed her hand and pulled.  
  
"Sure you can," Tristan said, a thrilling shock running up his arm that started where Rory's skin connected with his.  
  
Rory allowed him to pull her into the slick black BMW, and she tried as hard as she could to ignore the voice in her head. Guilt coursed through her veins, her cuts burned with pain.  
  
Not liking the silence that filled the car, Tristan flicked on the radio. Flipping through the stations, he landed on one and the words of Sarah McLachlan filled the car,  
  
Mary walks,  
  
Down to the water's edge,  
  
And there she hangs her head….  
  
"No!" Rory cried, reaching out and turning off the radio. Tristan whipped his head around to look at her, surprised and confused. "I don't like that song," She explained.  
  
I'm such an idiot, Tristan thought. God, it must mean something to her. How could I be so stupid?  
  
He looked over at Rory. Why is she scratching her arm so hard? He thought to himself. Deciding that he couldn't just drop her off, he drove past the road leading to Rory's house.  
  
"Wait, that's my turn!" Rory said, turning around in her seat and watching the street corner pass her by.  
  
"I'm taking you somewhere," Tristan said, an idea growing and forming in his head.  
  
"Where?" Rory asked, hating the small tinge of happiness growing in her gut. She hadn't felt that for a while.  
  
"Not telling," Tristan replied with the excitement of a 9 year old boy. He looked over at her, grinning his trademark grin. His blue eyes twinkled at the pleasure of talking with Rory.  
  
They drove in silence for a while, Rory sneaking glances at Tristan every few minutes. Tristan ran his fingers through his hair. He smiled. Then Tristan told Rory to close her eyes.  
  
"I don't want to." Rory protested.  
  
"Fine," Tristan said. Rory was surprised he gave in so easily, until he reached over, his hand brushing her knee, and he grabbed a black and red bandanna out of the glove compartment.  
  
"No."  
  
"Oh, yes."  
  
Rory smiled her first genuine smile in a long time as Tristan pulled over and put it over her eyes. Rory giggled.  
  
Tristan kept driving, hoping and praying he was doing the right thing.  
  
  
  
"Okay, we're here!" Tristan smiled, getting out of the car and running over to help Rory out.  
  
"Tristan…" She protested. You forgot me, Dean hissed in her ear and she jumped.  
  
"Are you okay?" Tristan asked, concerned, looking at her suddenly tense body.  
  
"Fine," Rory whispered, the smile gone from her face. Can't be happy can't be happy, she thought to herself.  
  
"Okay," Tristan said, pulling off the blindfold.  
  
They were standing in front of Luke's. Tristan remembered hearing Rory mention that they had he had best coffee, and she had friends there….He thought she would be happy. But….  
  
"No, please, let's go," Rory begged him, backing away and stumbling in her haste to escape. Tristan grabbed her wrist to keep her from falling, and the long sleeve rose up to her elbow, exposing all her arm.  
  
They both stared at the marks on her arm. Rory looked up, her blue eyes flashing. She used her other, free hand to pull down the sleeve.  
  
"Rory…" Tristan started, suprised.  
  
"No, leave me alone!" She begged, trying to break Tristan's grip. He held tighter. She can't get away. Why is she doing this to herself? He asked himself, wanted to cry as he saw the painful-looking marks on her arm.  
  
"Rory! What are you doing here?" Jess asked as he came out of the diner, looking from Rory to Tristan.  
  
"Let me go, let me go!" Rory begged, trying to run away. "I don't want to talk to you all, leave me alone!"  
  
"Leave her alone!" Luke yelled, coming out also. He ran over and grabbed Tristan by the collar, prepared to beat him if the need arise. NO one hurt Rory.  
  
"Wait, look!" Tristan protested, brandishing Rory's cut-up arm. Jess and Luke gasped, and looked at Rory's pained, but tear-free face.  
  
"She needs our help." Tristan said. 


	15. Silent

Rory wouldn't speak.  
  
Luke ushered everyone of the customers out of the diner with promises of free meals the next time they came. He locked up and closed the blinds, not wanted anyone to see inside. Jess and Tristan had to hold her by the shoulders to keep her from running, then they forced the shaking Rory to come up to the apartment.  
  
They opened the door and ushered her into the room. They had her sit down on the couch, and gave her a cup of coffee of steaming, warm coffee.  
  
But she still refused to speak.  
  
"Rory, we're not trying to hurt you or force you to talk," Jess told her gently, reaching out and lightly grazing her tired, forlorn, but still beautiful face with his fingers. She instantly shrunk back from his hand and tucked her knees to her chest.  
  
Don't talk don't talk, a voice hissed. She nodded, clutching her mug so hard her fingers turned red.  
  
Luke, Jess and Tristan looked at the quivering, small figure before them. She looked nothing like the cheerful, bubbly, friendly Rory they had all known. She wasn't the beautiful, irresistible, natural person she used to be. She looked scared and alone, her eyes darting back and forth suspiciously as she ducked her head so her dull, lifeless hair shaded her face.  
  
And those raw marks…her sleeves were still pulled up, and the horrible red marks jarred their thoughts. How could she do something so masochistic? She caused those violent cuts. The sight of the brutally carved names, hearts, and angry slashes caused the men who had all loved Rory to wish they could take away her pain. They'd take her place. They'd do anything.  
  
They waited for a while to see if she would decide to speak to them. After a long time, they were still sitting, still and silent.  
  
Quietly, Luke beckoned to Jess and Tristan, gesturing toward the front door. The three men walked out into the hall and softly closed it.  
  
"Who are you?" Luke asked Tristan, his voice heavy and full of worry. He sighed, taking off his ever-present baseball cap and wringing it in his hands.  
  
"I'm Tristan Dugrey—" He started, slipping his shaking hands deep into his pants pockets.  
  
Jess recognized the name from a conversation he'd overheard in the diner. "Bible Boy Tristan?" he questioned Tristan, surprised that the guy Rory had ranted about was here.  
  
"What?" Tristan asked, confused. Bible Boy? He thought to himself, wondering where the name came from.  
  
Jess laughed softly, remembering Lorelai's joking, yet protective tone. "That's what Lorelai called you, since you called Rory Mary."  
  
Tristan nodded, "I guess."  
  
"Weren't you kind of a jerk to her?" Luke broke in angrily, recalling Rory's frustrated spiel about the Evil One who teased her.  
  
"I didn't mean to be a jerk….I was just teasing…I didn't want her to….I…" Tristan stuttered. "I liked her," he confessed, looking down at his feet. I can't believe I'm telling my feelings to a bunch of strangers, feelings I hardly told myself, he thought. "And then I was sent away to military school….and I thought about her all the time.  
  
Jess nodded, "I think Rory has that effect on most people." Certainly on me, he thought.  
  
"How did you find out? About…" Luke trailed off, not wanting to voice what they were all thinking.  
  
"I wanted to help her…since I heard about what happened," he explained. "She'd been so different the past week, first she talked to me then she acted like she hated me. I saw them peeking out of her sleeve this morning. I didn't think…then after school her car wasn't working. She was so upset…."  
  
"Dean made her that car, with his own hands," Luke explained, fondly remembering Rory's excitement, and how happy the two of them had been. Tristan suddenly understood Rory's reluctance to leave the car or admit that anything was wrong with it.  
  
"I love her, and I just want her to get better. I would do anything for her," Tristan sighed. "I'm not trying to get her to love me, just to her to be my friend, and get better." he hastily added when he saw the look that passed between Jess and Luke. They think I just want to have her? He thought.  
  
"What should we do?" Jess finally asked.  
  
They all looked at each-other with guilt filled eyes, but no one spoke. The moment of silence after Jess's question grew deafeningly loud. It filled the space around them. What should they do? No one knew.  
  
From inside the apartment…it was quiet. Silent. 


	16. Sent Away

After Tristan, Luke and Jess realized that Rory wasn't going to speak to them, they decided they had to bring her home.  
  
Tristan threw his keys to Luke, instructing him to bring the BMW to the front of the diner so Rory wouldn't be bombarded with worried townspeople. Luke reluctantly agreed, not wanting to leave Rory.  
  
Tristan and Jess both held one of her arms gingerly, careful not to press on the wounds, and led her downstairs. Jess observed how lovingly Tristan helped her, and noticed the look of horror in his eyes every time they traveled to her wrists.  
  
They helped her into the car, feeling guilty when Rory shrank deeply into her seat, looking scared and vulnerable. Luke and Jess shoved themselves into the backseat, and Tristan jogged quickly around the car to get in on the drivers side.  
  
They drove in silence home, sneaking peeks at the pathetic figure in the passenger seat.  
  
"I should probably talk to the Gilmores," Tristan said to the other two men, looking at them in the mirror. "I talked to Emily over the weekend." Rory quickly turned her head, looking confused. Tristan shrugged, happy there was some sort of response from her, and pulled up in front of the huge house.  
  
Luke and Jess guarded Rory protectively with her bodies as the group walked up to the door. When Tristan rang the doorbell and Emily answered, she stared in shock at the group.  
  
"Mrs. Gilmore, I think we need to speak with you," Luke said to her. She recognized him as "the coffee man who refuses to shave" and, bewildered, moved to the side so they could enter the foyer.  
  
"Richard?" She called, and they entered the living room, where Rory sank into the soft cushions. "Rory?" Emily asked as Rory closed her eyes and leaned her head on a pillow.  
  
When Richard came into the room and looked at the odd assortment of people, he went over to Rory and asked her what was wrong. But Rory wouldn't speak.  
  
"Mr. and Mrs. Gilmore…" Jess started, then looked to Tristan for help.  
  
Tristan walked over to where Rory sat and knelt down next to her. Gingerly unbuttoning her sleeve, he pulled it up for her grandparents to see. They both gasped and Emily screamed and began to sob.  
  
Rory's eyes grew wide as she watched the scene unfold before her. The expression on her face was that of a deer caught in headlights.  
  
"She hasn't…she hasn't spoke. It's been a few hours…." Luke said, his voice breaking with pain.  
  
Emily broke away from Richard, who had pulled her into a tight embrace, and leaned over Rory. "RORY! Rory, please," She begged of her granddaughter. Rory turned her head away from her grandmother's stare.  
  
They all looked at Rory, who didn't say a word.  
  
  
  
"Mrs. Gilmore!" Tristan yelled as he caught up with her in a clothing store parking lot. It had been a week since the truth about Rory had come out, and neither Tristan nor Jess and Luke had been able to reach the Gilmores. The three of them had kept in contact, an unlikely bond formed between them with a common love of Rory.  
  
"Hello, Tristan," Emily said softly. Tristan took in her haggard appearance, which had grown to resemble Rory's when he had first seen her that year.  
  
"How's Rory? I've tried to call," He asked, grabbing a few of her bags, which were tumbling out of her arms.  
  
"The doctor, the therapist….they told us to send her to this facility….Clear Water Valley. It's for…." Emily started, then stopped abruptly.  
  
Tristan didn't push, not wanting her to dislike him. "Can I," He corrected himself, "We, Luke and Jess and I, see her?"  
  
Emily shook her head, "Not yet. We haven't even, not until the end of the month. Maybe after that….maybe."  
  
Tristan walked in silence with her to her car, and put his bags in the trunk.  
  
They said their farewells and parted.  
  
  
  
"They sent her away?" Jess hissed angrily, slamming his towel down on the counter. Luke flinched, looking around to make sure none of the few patrons of the diner were listening in on their conversation.  
  
Tristan had been introduced to Lane when he arrived in Star's Hollow that Monday after school. She broke in, "Maybe it's a good thing. Maybe they can help her."  
  
"Help her? She's alone. She has no one there, no one she'll talk to," Jess vented.  
  
"Mrs. Gilmore said we might be able to see her….in a while," Tristan said.  
  
"I hope so," Luke sighed, refilling Lane's coffee cup. Tristan stared into his hardly untouched meal, and pushed it away.  
  
Jess absentmindedly picked up the plate and set it back down again.  
  
The four of them sat in silence, their minds far away looking for the location of Rory..  
  
  
  
Rory looked around at the barren room, taking in the drab cream walls and vile flowered bedspread. She sunk into the chair that faced the window, staring out over the lush green gardens that held no interest for her.  
  
"Rory?" Her therapist asked her as she came into the room. She sat down next to Rory and looked at her questioningly, notepad and pen in hand. "Are we ready to speak?"  
  
No no no no….Rory thought, trying to block out Dean's voice telling her.  
  
  
  
They sent you away because you're crazy. I'm the only one that loves you. 


	17. Soul Confessions

The Gilmores visited Rory on Sunday of the next week, finding a distraught therapist named Dr. Bryce and a depressed Rory.  
  
"She still won't speak," Dr. Bryce told them as they prepared to enter Rory's room. "We have sessions once a day, and the most she does is nod."  
  
The Gilmores looked at each other, distressed, then entered the room.  
  
"Hello, Rory," Richard said to her, sitting down next to Rory on the bed. Rory slightly turned her head to look at him and her grandmother, then looked back down at her thin, white hands.  
  
Emily told Rory a bit about what was going on at home, that her friends wanted to see her, and basically chattered. Rory ignored her the whole time. In her head she and her mother were sitting and watching Willy Wonka, cups of coffee piles of candy littering the sofa…..  
  
The two finally left, distressed at the fact that there was no change in Rory. And they wondered if there would ever be.  
  
  
  
"Okay, this is it," Tristan said, checking the address in his hand and looking up at the large brick building. Surrounded by a wrought-iron fence, a green sign declared it Clear Water Valley.  
  
"Cliché name," Jess mumbled as they pulled into the driveway and around to a parking lot.  
  
Tristan helped Lane out of the car and they all started walking towards the intimidating front doors.  
  
"We're here to see Rory Gilmore?" Luke asked the women at the large oak desk in the front room.  
  
"It's up the—" The women started, but was interrupted by Dr. Bryce.  
  
"You all here to see Rory Gilmore?" she asked the group, then lead them to a circular staircase when they nodded. "I'd prefer if you go into her room one at a time so she doesn't get overwhelmed," She instructed them as they reached the top of the staircase.  
  
"Is she talking yet?" Jess questioned hopefully. He sighed in despair when Dr. Bryce shook her head. They stopped in front of a door with a gold number 20 on it.  
  
Lane asked if she can go first, and she entered the room.  
  
  
  
"Hey, Rory," Lane says as she heasitated in the doorway to the room. She shut it behind her, walked over and sat down across from Rory in a chair.  
  
Rory glanced at Lane, blinking.  
  
"How have you been doing?" Lane greeted her awkwardly. Rory's didn't even move her head this time.  
  
Lane twiddled her thumbs for a minute, then looked at Rory with tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry." When Rory looked at her, a puzzled look on her thin face, Lane sniffled and said, "I should have….tried harder. Kept calling. Then maybe…"  
  
Rory closed her eyes for a minute, then turned back to stare out over the gardens.  
  
Lane wiped her eyes, stood up and left the room.  
  
  
  
"Rory," Luke tried to smile as he entered, but failed miserably. He stared at the white bandaged wrapped around Rory's arms.  
  
He kissed the top of her head, upset when she flinched.  
  
"Can we talk?" He asked her. She stayed silent, running her fingers up and down her arms, pressing into the white cloth. Luke reached out to stop her, but she pulled her hand away.  
  
"It's my fault," he started. Rory ignored him, standing up and walking over to her bed. She sat on it and smoothed an invisible wrinkle from the drab bedspread,  
  
Luke began rambling softly, his words blurring together until they were almost unintelligible, "I didn't want to go to the party but I agreed and then when something came up I was actually happy but you went and the crash happened and if I had been there maybe you would have stayed longer at the party or I would have seen the car." He paused and took a deep breath, his hands shaking. "I don't know if you knew this, I hardly knew it until she was gone…but I loved your mother Rory. She was one of the most amazing people I knew." His voice began to crack.  
  
Rory had a strong urge to comfort him, say it wasn't his fault but hers, yet she didn't want to. She wanted to stay in her head where it was safe.  
  
She just watched Luke, one of the strongest and safest people she knew, stand before her quivering.  
  
Rory looked away from the sight that threatened to make her explode. She heard the door open and close, and Luke disappeared.  
  
  
  
Jess walked in silently, without a falsely happy greeting or attempt to get Rory to speak.  
  
He sat down heavily on the bed next to her, not acknowledging the fact that she scooted away and back into the headboard.  
  
There was silence in the room for a minute, just Jess looking at Rory with concerned eyes and Rory attempting to avert hers.  
  
"When I first moved her, I think I fell in love with you," Jess confessed to Rory. She sharply turned her head to look at him, her eyes wide. "And I guess I was trying to break you and Dean up. I thought we would be so great together. But once the accident happened, and you changed so much….."  
  
Rory's mind spun with this new information, and she began to twist her shirt in her hands.  
  
"Once you showed up at the diner with Tristan, and we saw what you had been doing to yourself…my feelings for you aren't romantic. Rory, you're like a sister to me. And I care about you. I don't want you to do this to yourself. Whatever is making you…whatever things you're thinking, whatever you're feeling, just know that we all love you, and we're here for you."  
  
Without another word, Jess exited the room.  
  
  
  
I'm gonna do it, I am, Tristan thought to himself as Jess left Rory's room and it was finally his turn. The doctor said we should tell her what's on our minds so she has all the information and motive to want to get better. So I have to tell her.  
  
The sun was streaming through with window, casting light throughout the room. The light, however, did nothing to make Rory look any happier or less haggard.  
  
Tristan was tongue-tied, so he just sat down on the end of the bed trying to work up his courage.  
  
"Rory," He started, then stopped. He looked at Rory, wondering if he was doing the right thing. "I have to confess something."  
  
Rory sighed, shading her face as the sunlight hit her eyes.  
  
"Rory," Tristan said, taking her hand. Rory left it there, trying not to think of what she felt when he touched her. "I'm sorry I was kind of a jerk to you. I have a reason that I'm kind of embarrassed to tell you, but here it goes."  
  
Tristan took a deep breath, and said to Rory, "I love you." 


	18. The Distance

Tristan hurried out of the room soon after his confession. Although he hadn't expected Rory to react the way he wanted her to, and he'd convinced himself not to expect anything, his heart still began to break when he saw the look of terror that spread across Rory's face when he'd said those three words.  
  
He left something at the front desk, then he walked out with Luke, Jess, and Lane, none of them attempting to start a conversation.  
  
They drove to Stars Hollow, all their thoughts with Rory. Tristan dropped Lane of at her house, no doubt going in to face a lecture from her mother, who didn't feel Luke was a proper chaperone for a long car ride with two teenage boys.  
  
Luke headed into the diner and immediately began yelling at the guy he had left in charge. Jess invited Tristan up to the apartment, and Tristan gladly agreed.  
  
Jess turned on the radio and threw himself down on the couch.  
  
Tristan sat down on the floor, stretching his legs out in front of him and leaning against the wall.  
  
The two sat in their own little worlds for a minute, listening to the screeching of Jess's music.  
  
Jess leaned forward and looked into Tristan's face.  
  
"You told her, didn't you?" He asked Tristan, who looked down at his hands and nodded.  
  
"The doctor said….God. Was it wrong?" He asked, sounding very pained and guilty.  
  
Jess shook his head, "I don't think so. She should have something to come back to. I told her….I was in love with her." Tristan looked upset at this new information, afraid of competition, yet wanting to be happy because Jess was a great guy, "But I told her she's like a sister to me, that I still love but not romantically."  
  
Tristan sighed in relief.  
  
Their conversation turned towards lighter topics in an effort to forget Rory's pain.  
  
  
  
He loves me, He loves me? Rory thought to herself, sitting on the couch in front of Dr. Bryce chewing on her lip.  
  
Only I love you, a low and angry voice whispered sharply in her ear.  
  
In an effort to block it out, she clapped her hands over her ears.  
  
"Rory?" Dr. Bryce asked gently. Rory tore her hands away and looked up at the therapist. "Your friends seem nice." Rory nodded. "Did they tell you anything interesting today?"  
  
Rory considered answering, the knowledge of Luke and Jess and Tristan almost overflowing inside of her.  
  
Rory shakes her head.  
  
"Alright. If that's what you want." Dr. Bryce said, going back to writing in her notebook.  
  
Rory kept chewing on her lip, the pain comforting her. She looked around the office, which was really more like a living room. She ran her hand over the soft brown suede couch, and looked around at the many vibrant green plants. She stood up and walked over to one, with large white flowers blooming on it.  
  
"I love gardening. I figured out how to grow things year round inside. DO you like plants?" Dr. Bryce asked Rory. Rory shrugged her shoulders.  
  
"Rory, one of the nurses tells me you haven't been eating."  
  
Rory hadn't been. Her ribs were coming completely defined, her hipbones jutted out and her legs had become pale and skinny.  
  
Dr. Bryce didn't push, just said she'd see Rory tomorrow.  
  
Rory left the room, and was escorted by one of the nurses back to her room.  
  
"One of your friends left this for you yesterday," The nurse said, handing Rory a red paper bag. Rory went to sit down on her bed and she peeked into the bag.  
  
Inside she found the book she had lent (GIVEN the voice hissed) Tristan. She gingerly pulled it out, looking at the worn cover.  
  
Opening it, she found Tristan's boyishly messy handwriting littering the pages with notes. Yellow post-its marked two of the pages.  
  
The first poem said…  
  
The distance that the dead have gone  
  
Does not at first appear;'  
  
Their coming back seems possible  
  
For many an ardent year.''  
  
And then, that we have followed them  
  
We more than half suspect,  
  
So intimate have we become  
  
With their dear retrospect.  
  
  
  
Rory gasped and dropped the book. The piece of paper held into the book by the post-it fell out and the wind took it under the window.  
  
Rory ran to the glass, and punched her hand through it. She slid her wrist on to the glass, screaming.  
  
The room spun, the absence of food getting to her combined with the loss of blood. Her mind wandered from Dean to Tristan and back again, she heard her mom's voice saying, "Rory, it's not him." She fell to the ground, hearing the nurses voices murmuring urgently around her.  
  
But all she wanted to do was sleep. 


	19. Bottle

"She's in the hospital!" Jess cried as soon as he heard Tristan's voice on the other end of the telephone line.  
  
"What?" Tristan asked, turning down the radio he had blasting so he could figure out who was on the phone and what they had said.  
  
"Rory! She's in the hospital. Luke called her grandparents a few hours ago to ask when we can go see her again at the clinic, and the maid chick said they were in the hospital with her! We're here, in Hartford Memorial, sorry we didn't call you as soon as we knew, we'll meet you in the ER." Jess said hurriedly, and then slammed down the phone.  
  
Tristan literally flew out of bed, pulled on the nearest shirt and pants and grabbed a beanie. He ran downstairs without bothering to mention to anyone where he was going or why.  
  
He jumped into the BMW, then he turned the key into the ignition and sped out of the driveway.  
  
Rory? Hospital? He asked himself as he drove just above the speed limit. She was fine, not talking, but fine. Was it what I said to her? The poems?  
  
He pulled into the parking lot of the hospital, his tires screeching as he pulled into a parking space and slammed on the brakes. He jumped out of the car and ran full speed through the front doors with the words "Emergency Room" over them. He looked around at the people waiting there, not seeing any familiar faces. He was ready to scream when he noticed Luke.  
  
"Tristan!" Jess called from down the hall, heading towards the frantic Tristan.  
  
Tristan went over to him, a string of questions leaving his mouth. "What happened? Is she okay? Can we see her? Where are the Gilmores?"  
  
Jess laughed grimly, and without any humor, "One question at a time, man. I don't know what happened yet, we don't know if she's okay, we can't see her, they're with the doctor."  
  
Luke walked over, coming from the front desk. He started ranting loudly, "Don't these people know anything? If they do they should tell us, it's not fair." He slammed himself into a chair.  
  
Jess went to the pay phone and dialed Lane's phone number, who had been out when Jess and Luke left but they had informed when they got there. Jess relayed that they knew nothing, then told her they would call her as soon as they got any news, no matter how small or insignificant. The three of them sat for a while, often going up to the front desk to badger the nurse for answers.  
  
"ALRIGHT, FINE! How's this? As soon as I hear anything, I will come over and tell you!" The nurse finally yelled at them, the pointed them away from her station. She instructed them to leave her alone.  
  
The waited longer, occasionally getting up to go to the bathroom or get coffee from the machine down the hall. Finally, someone appeared who could give them some answers.  
  
"Hello," Richard said tiredly as he walked over to them. The three of them jumped up in anxiousness, waiting to hear what he had to say. "She's going to be fine. She…punched her glass window, and then fainted. They said it was blood loss and the fact she hadn't eaten for almost 2 weeks."  
  
Tristan hesitated to ask this question, but finally summoned up his courage and did, "Do they know why she did it?" He prepared himself for Richard saying it was a book she was reading, or that Rory said it was Tristan's fault.  
  
But Richard just shook his head forlornly. "The therapist said it probably wasn't anything specific, a small trigger that let loose on the stuff she's been bottling up."  
  
Tristan was inwardly upset, knowing it must have been him or the poems that was the trigger, and then Luke asked, "Can we see her?"  
  
Richard shook his head. "You should just go on home. We'll call you as soon as Dr. Bryce says it's okay for you to visit."  
  
They started to argue, but Richard told them it could be as long as a week until they could see her, and they couldn't live at the hospital. Reluctantly, the three of them left.  
  
They parted outside the front door, Luke and Jess telling Tristan to call them if he heard anything and Tristan repeated it right back to them.  
  
Tristan walked through the now dark parking lot, opened the door to his car and got in. He leaned his head back onto the seat, a tear threatening to escape from his tightly shut eyes.  
  
  
  
  
  
Tristan returned home to an empty house, remembering his parents had left for Cancun yesterday and he had told the maid she didn't need to be there just for him.  
  
He went into the kitchen, looked around to see if there was anything to eat, then opened the large silver fridge.  
  
A blast of cold hit his tight face, that occurred when he stopped himself from crying. His eyes immediately went to the Sam Adams bottles lined up perfectly symmetrical on the top shelf.  
  
You want to be your dad? He asked himself, trying to keep from immediately downing one of the beers.  
  
Sighing heavily, he decided to reach for one, wanting to forget everything.  
  
And maybe find something, some sort of answer, at the bottom of that bottle. 


	20. It's Not You, It's Me?

"Hello, Rory," Dr. Bryce said as she entered Rory's room the next morning. Dark circles were noticeable under her eyes; although it was obvious she had tried to cover them with makeup.  
  
Rory turned her head to look at the therapist, and nodded in acknowledgement.  
  
Dr. Bryce sat down in the chair next to Rory's bed, adjusting herself and setting down her bag. "I told your grandparents to go home, take showers, rest and get something to eat. They'll be back tonight." Rory again nodded, looking expectantly at the doctor.  
  
Dr. Bryce stayed quiet for a minute, then reached into her purse and pulled out the poetry book and the piece of paper that had fallen out of it.  
  
"Did you read this?" She asked, holding up the piece of paper with handwritten words on it. Rory shook her head.  
  
Dr. Bryce nodded. "Just this?" She asked, opening the book and indicating the poem Tristan had marked. Rory nodded. "Did it upset you?" Rory shrugged. Dr. Bryce nodded, looking thoughtful.  
  
"Rory…forgive me if this is out of line." She began. "But have you been hearing voices?" Rory blinked rapidly. Dr. Bryce smiled softly. "I thought so. After my husband died, I heard his voice all the time."  
  
Rory looked surprised. "He was murdered in a bank robbery, after his death I hardly left the house. I kept hearing his voice talking to me, saying things, he kept showing up in my dreams." Rory nodded in confirmation to the questioning tone in Dr. Bryce's voice. "But Rory, whatever this voice is saying-you know it's not Dean?" Rory tilted her head quizzically. "If the things that this voice is saying-things that tell you to hurt yourself, or what is right or wrong, it's not Dean. It's your thoughts, what you think Dean might feel. But even though he's gone, he's the same he was when he was here, and I know that he wouldn't tell you anything that would make you this scared."  
  
Rory shrunk back into her bed, ending the conversation by closing her eyes and curling into a ball. Dr. Bryce left the room, setting the piece of paper on the table next to Rory's hospital bed.  
  
  
  
"She's right, you know," Lorelai said to Rory. Rory yawned, sitting up.  
  
"Mom?"  
  
"Hey sweetie, what's up?"  
  
"Please don't die in front of me, please!" Rory begged.  
  
"Honey sweetie baby, you think I'd do that?" Lorelai laughed, putting her hand on top of Rory's.  
  
"What?"  
  
"That therapist chick. She's right on the money, but not mine, as I have none." Lorelai explained. "About the voice? Babe, you know that's not Dean.'  
  
"It's is voice, you and him were in the dreams!" Rory yelled.  
  
"That was your thoughts, Ror, not ours." Lorelai smiled. "You know we'd never be mean to you," then Lorelai paused, "Well, I sometimes am, but you know Dean, Mr. Sensitivity." Rory still looked shocked. "RORY! Get it into your head, darling, Dean wasn't telling you that stuff."  
  
"She's right," Dean smiled as he came from nowhere.  
  
"Dean?" Rory asked, leaning up and pulling him into a tight hug.  
  
"Hey, Ror," He smiled, his hair shading his eyes. "Did you miss me?" Her answer was holding him tighter. "Rory." Dean said firmly, unhooking her harms. "You can't hold on to me forever. I wasn't telling you to do any of those things, Rory, you have to know that."  
  
"But I thought…."  
  
"No, Rory, he's been with me," Lorelai smiled. "Drinking coffee."  
  
"We just want you to be happy, Rory, no matter what it takes," said Dean, grabbing Rory's other hand, so on one side she had her mother and one side she had Dean.  
  
"Read that, babe," Lorelai instructed her daughter, gesturing towards the poem on the table. "That'll help."  
  
"And if he hurts you, you know we'll come back." Dean laughed jokingly.  
  
They stood up to walk out, linking arms, then turned back.  
  
"I will remember you…" Dean sang.  
  
"Will you remember me?" Lorelai added, then they started to walk away.  
  
"Don't let your life, pass you by…weep not for, the memories…." Rory whispered to their retreating backs. 


	21. Awakenings

Rory awoke that afternoon with a genuine smile on her face. She stretched, wincing at the pain in her arm.  
  
That hurt, she thought, they've never hurt before.  
  
She remembered the paper Dr. Bryce left, the paper her mom had referred to. She picked it up off the table, remembering the book and Tristan's handwriting. The same script was on this piece of paper.  
  
A smile grew on her face as she read…  
  
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.  
  
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height  
  
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight  
  
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.  
  
I love thee to the level of everyday's  
  
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.  
  
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;  
  
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.  
  
I love thee with the passion put to use  
  
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.  
  
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose  
  
With my lost saints,--I love thee with the breath,  
  
Smiles, tears, of all my life!--and, if God choose,  
  
I shall but love thee better after death.  
  
As soon as Rory finished, she heard a voice and raised her head. "Rory, you're up," Dr. Bryce smiled as she entered. "Have a nice rest?"  
  
Rory nodded, debating whether or not to speak.  
  
"That's good. Your grandparents are just down eating dinner, they were in here while you slept. I'd like to talk to you first, though." Dr. Bryce told her.  
  
Rory gestured to the chair next to her, noticing the satisfied smile on the woman's face. "Did you dream?" Rory confirmed this question with a nod. "Are you feeling better?" She nodded again.  
  
Dr. Bryce leaned over and took the poem from Rory's hand, "Beautiful, isn't it?" Rory smiled a little smile. "Do you know who gave it to you?" Rory nodded, getting tired of the gesture but not wanting to speak yet. "How do you feel about it?" Rory shrugged, not sure even if she decided to speak if she could explain the confused, tumultuous feelings inside of her.  
  
"Well, when you decide, I'm here to talk," Dr. Bryce said, getting up and leaving as the Gilmore's entered. The three held a small, quiet conversation, then the Gilmores turned to look at Rory.  
  
"Rory! You're awake!" Emily said with glee. "Are you alright?"  
  
Rory nodded, silently screaming that the nodding kept hurting her head. She leaned up to give her grandmother a hug, and over her shoulder she saw the happiness of her grandfather that she was responding to them.  
  
"Dr. Bryce said she thinks that you're ready to see your friends. They've been calling non-stop." Rory nodded urgently.  
  
"Alright, we'll give them a call, and they can come tomorrow. How does that sound?" Richard asked. Rory smiled.  
  
Emily said, "Oh, Rory, whatever it is that's making you better, keep doing it."  
  
  
  
Tristan groaned when the phone awoke him, interrupting his near coma- like sleep. His head pounded at the loud noise, and he cursed violently as he sat up too quickly.  
  
"Hello?" He mumbled into the phone, trying to keep from getting nauseous. He chastised himself for thinking his problems could be solved with a night of heavy drinking. The only kind of drunk he'd ever been was the laughing, wild, horny kind of drunk at parties. Not the slobbering, crying, cursing drunk he'd been last night.  
  
"This is Emily Gilmore, Tristan," Emily said into the phone.  
  
Tristan was instantly alert, "Rory?"  
  
"She's alright, Tristan, she feels better enough to see you and Luke and Jess."  
  
Tristan cheered silently, ignoring the throbbing pain in his head. "So we can see her? When?"  
  
"Tonight, visiting hours start at 6."  
  
They said goodbye, and Tristan put down the phone. He stumbled to the bathroom, popping one of his dad's Morning After pills and a few Advil. He looked at himself in the mirror, groaning at the image that greeted him. Messy hair, huge dark circles, sleep in his eyes and messed up clothes.  
  
Tristan stripped and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water wash away the remnants of his drunken evening.  
  
He wondered if it was Jess and Luke that Rory agreed to see, if she wanted him to come. He didn't know what she would say to him, if she was talking, if she would be broken and crying and it would be all his fault.  
  
He looked at his watch throughout the day, counting the hours until he could go to Rory. 


	22. Preparation

"Tristan, hey," Lane smiled at him, stepping on her tiptoes and giving him a hug. Tristan had liked this girl the instant he met her, and gave her a tight hug back.  
  
"Where are Luke and Jess?" Tristan asked, walking with her down the hall.  
  
"They're at the room. We've been her for awhile, we've seen her."  
  
"How is she, is she okay, is she talking?" Tristan blurted out, his words blurring together. He was preparing for the worst, that she had said she hated him or she was still silent and cutting and pale….  
  
"She seems a lot better. She smiled, looked like she was listening to what we had to say, but Dr. Bryce said she didn't expect her to talk yet, so we weren't to upset." Lane said as she led Tristan to the elevator. She pushed the level 4 button and the elevator began to rise.  
  
"Can I…can I see her alone?" Tristan asked quietly, silently pleading with Lane.  
  
Lane started to laugh, "Of course, Tristan. I'd insist you would anyway."  
  
They reached the 4th floor and exited the elevator. Tristan followed Lane down the hall until they reached a group of people.  
  
"Hello," Tristan said to them, seeing Jess, the Gilmores, and Dr. Bryce standing around outside one of the doors.  
  
"Hello, Tristan. Luke's inside, you can go in a second," Emily said to him, then she and Richard walked off to get something to drink.  
  
Luke exited, a huge smile on his face.  
  
"I know!" Jess exclaimed. Lane laughed.  
  
"What?" Tristan asked, confused.  
  
"She's much better," Dr. Bryce smiled, "Not talking yet, that will take time. But she's much better."  
  
"Umm, we're gonna go get some coffee, right?" Lane said to the two men beside her.  
  
"Uh, what?" Jess asked, then winced as Lane poked him with her elbow. "Right. Coffee. Prepare for driving. Wake up drink. Coffee. Like I don't get enough of that at the diner."  
  
The three of them walked off to the elevator, laughter ringing back through the halls. Tristan prepared to enter Rory's room by taking a deep breath, but he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Before you go in, can we talk for a bit?" Dr. Bryce asked him. Tristan nodded, confused. They sat down on the bench down the hall.  
  
"So what is it you'd like to talk to me about?" Tristan asked, nervous.  
  
"I'm assuming that it was you who gave Rory those poems? Is that right?"  
  
Tristan paused in fright, "I didn't mean to make her upset! You said to tell her things and I've always wanted to tell her and I'm sorry if I hurt her but I though I should tell her then she didn't say anything and then I heard she was in the hospital and I'm so mad at myself I'm an idiot and—"  
  
"Wait, wait," Dr. Bryce laughed, putting palm up in an attempt to make Tristan stop rambling. "I'm not blaming you for anything. I actually wanted to thank you."  
  
"What? Thank me?" Tristan questioned, confusion running through his veins. "I know you're the doctor and all, but maybe you need to get checked out. You know, make sure everything's okay up here?" He tapped his temple, a smirk on his face.  
  
Dr. Bryce laughed. "No, Tristan, really. I do think it was the Emily Dickinson poem that triggered her collapse, but without it I doubt I could have figured out what was going on in her head."  
  
"Can you tell me, or is it confidential?" Tristan asked her.  
  
"I could, but I think you should hear it from Rory."  
  
"But they said she wasn't talking!"  
  
"Tristan, I have a feeling she might talk to you.  
  
Tristan nodded, and stood up.  
  
"By the way, Tristan," Dr. Bryce said to him. "She hadn't read the other poem until yesterday, so it wasn't part of the trigger." Tristan smiled at this small boost to his confidence. "And good choice." She finished.  
  
Tristan waved to her and then gave her a thumbs up, and turned to face the door, preparing to face Rory and whatever came his way. 


	23. Find the Words

"Hello, Rory," Tristan said softly as he entered the room. He quietly shut the door behind him. Rory looked up from the poetry book, and granted Tristan a small smile with those perfect lips that made his heart skip a beat. She was sitting up in the bed, her skin seeming brighter and healthier then the last time he saw her, and there was a little flush in her cheeks. She did look better.  
  
He looked at the book in her lap and inwardly did a little dance. "Good poems?"  
  
Rory nodded, closing the book. Tristan smiled at this small gesture that made him feel she was much better.  
  
Tristan sat in the well-used chair next to her bed, adjusting himself but not able to find a comfortable position.  
  
Rory watched his awkwardness with a tinge of amusement. He's so cute, Rory thought, then silently kicked herself for not thinking of Dean. But then she remembered he said he only wanted her to be happy. But would Tristan make her happy? That fact she didn't know, and what's more, she didn't know if she wanted to find out.  
  
Tristan finally leaned back in the chair, and let his eyes wander over the room. Absentmindedly scratching his blonde head, they drifted to the window and the medical equipment and the completely ugly dog picture on the wall. They focused on anywhere but the bed and Rory.  
  
"So, um, Rory," Tristan mumbled, trying to decide what to say. Thousands of things ran through his head, and rejected all of them. All of Dr. Bryce's encouragement flew out of his head and he could only think of what was wrong with him. Why didn't I think of this before I came in? Tristan scolded himself. "About what I said? Last time I saw you…"  
  
They were interrupted by a nurse who came in to deliver Rory's dinner tray. Rory waved it away.  
  
"Your doctors say that you must eat something. I'll have to stay in and watch you eat!" The young nurse threatened, giggling.  
  
Rory reluctantly took the tray, and Tristan promised to make sure she ate.  
  
The nurse left after giving Tristan a once-over and winking at Rory. Tristan didn't know where to continue.  
  
"Well, about that," he paused.  
  
Rory held her breath.  
  
I'll do it, I will, Tristan though to himself, looking at Rory's emotionless face. She's not doing anything, not even blinking! What should I say?  
  
"I'm sorry if I upset you." He finished when there was no reaction from her. His low self-esteem automatically jumped to the conclusion that she didn't care for him at all, that he was the cause of her breakdown and that she hated him.  
  
He jumped up from his seat, ready to get out of that room.  
  
"Tristan, wait!" A scratchy voice came from behind him.  
  
Tristan turned to look at Rory, who had a shocked look on her face.  
  
He couldn't find the words. 


	24. Just Cry

After he heard Rory's voice, Tristan walked quickly back to the side of the bed and kneeled down on the ground, his arms resting on the side of the bed and he looked up at her.  
  
"Rory?" Tristan said gently in an attempt to wipe the frightened look off Rory's suddenly pale face. Rory shook her head silently, and tried to move away from Tristan.  
  
"Hey," he said, putting his hand on top of hers, feeling her soft skin. He was careful not to let his fingers reach the white bandages circling her wrist. "It's okay."  
  
Rory cleared her throat, and whispered, "No it's not." She tightly shut her eyes, and viciously shook her head.  
  
"Rory, I'm not going to push you. If you want to talk, you know I'm here," Tristan pleaded with her, hoping she would take him up on his offer. "But I think you should. Talk, even if it's not with me. Jess or Luke…."  
  
Rory just sat there quietly, her eyes downcast and looking at the connection of Tristan's skin on hers. Tristan adjusted his hand so their fingers were intertwined, and he squeezed her hand comfortingly.  
  
Rory's voice, low and scratchy from lack of use, filled the room, "I don't want to forget Dean. And if I just go on with my life…"  
  
"You won't forget him, Ror, you will always remember him, but you can't spend your life in silence," Tristan said to her.  
  
"And my mom….." her voice cracked.  
  
"You know your mom just wants you to be happy. I'm not saying it's me that's going to make you happy," Tristan said, "But I don't think you can be when you're silent."  
  
Rory nodded, then turned her head to look out the window. "I thought it was him telling me to….but I know now that's not true."  
  
Tristan smiled, "I may have had a little jealousy towards Dean, but you're right. He was a great guy."  
  
"He was," Rory smiled, remembering.  
  
There was a pause, and then Tristan asked, "Do you want me to go?"  
  
Rory looked thoughtful, then shook her head decisively. "No, I don't think so. Not yet." Tristan got up and sat beside her on the bed, far enough away that Rory didn't feel crowded but close enough that he could feel the heat coming from her body.  
  
"I just miss them." Rory murmured sadly, her eyes shining brightly.  
  
"I know."  
  
"I mean…" Rory said, realizing the truth of her coming words. "They're never coming back."  
  
Tristan stayed silent, knowing she needed to get her feelings out. No matter how much he wanted to hold her and tell her what to feel, he knew she had to get there on her own.  
  
"I'm just scared," Rory breathed, looking up into Tristan's face, her lip quivering. She bit it to try and stop the shaking, but the tremors gradually came over her whole body.  
  
A tear slipped down her cheek. Tristan reached up to wipe it away.  
  
"I haven't cried, Tristan. I haven't cried." She said, her voice breaking.  
  
Tristan pulled her into him, her head fitting perfectly into his chest. Her shoulders shook heavily as the un-cried tears erupted from her eyes.  
  
Tristan held her close, tears running down his cheeks too. 


	25. Devotion

A knock on the door interrupted their crying reverie. They broke apart, then Luke, Lane and Jess entered, taking in Rory's tearstained face.  
  
Luke opened his mouth to lay into Tristan for whatever it was he did to make Rory cry, but he was cut off.  
  
"Hi," Rory said softly.  
  
"Rory!" Lane cried, running over and pulling her best friend into a gentle hug.  
  
Tristan stood and moved out of the way as Luke and Jess went around to the other side of the bed and both kissed the top of Rory's head.  
  
"Are you feeling better?" Jess asked.  
  
"I think so," Rory smiled.  
  
Tristan looked at the scene before him, Rory surrounded by her friends who were asking her questions and looked ecstatic when they heard Rory's voice answer.  
  
Then the Gilmores came in, followed by Dr. Bryce.  
  
The room was filled with laughter and conversation, everyone taking in Rory's new demeanor.  
  
Tristan stayed to the back of the group, against the wall, his eyes never leaving Rory's face.  
  
The tears that had fallen from her eyes had made them bright and happy again. There was still pain there, Tristan could see it, but it was lesser, not as intense.  
  
The group's enthusiasm eventually trickled down to just elation, and Dr. Bryce said that they should probably just let Rory rest. The group started to leave, but Tristan hung back.  
  
"I'll see you tomorrow." He said to Rory.  
  
"You don't have to," she protested, not wanting to just feel pity for her.  
  
He grinned cockily, "I'll see you tomorrow."  
  
  
  
And he did. Every day while Rory was in the hospital, he came to visit her. He brought her books and candy, told her funny stories about people at Chilton, and kept him self from talking to her about the poem he'd given her.  
  
The staff was amazed at Rory's change. She was eating, laughing, and they mostly attributed it to the incredibly attractive and dedicated blonde boy who kept visiting her.  
  
At the end of the fourth week, the doctors said that Rory would be able to go home. She'd gotten back up to her goal weight, Dr. Bryce said that there was almost no chance of a relapse, and she was happy.  
  
Tristan arrived at the hospital that day.  
  
"Hey, Ror," he smiled as he came into the room.  
  
"Tristan," her face lit up. She was dressed in a pair of white sweat pants and a long-sleeved black tee that covered the scars on her arms.  
  
She put the pile of books in front of her into a backpack and zipped it up.  
  
"My grandparents are taking me home in a minute," She said happily.  
  
Tristan grabbed her backpack, marveling at the weight. He slung it over his shoulder and the two of them walked out into the hall.  
  
"I was wondering, Rory," He asked her, the plan he'd been working on for days going into effect, "Would you like to do something tomorrow? With me?"  
  
Rory paused in step, then took a deep breath and said yes.  
  
Tristan smiled, pleased, and the two of them reached Dr. Bryce, Emily and Richard.  
  
"Hello, Tristan, it's nice to see you again," Richard smiled at him. He had grown to like the boy and recognized the devotion he felt towards Rory. Richard trusted him with her.  
  
The Gilmores said goodbye to Tristan and Dr. Bryce, and when Rory hugged Dr. Bryce Tristan mouthed to her "I'll call you." She smiled.  
  
They left, leaving Dr. Bryce and Tristan.  
  
"I wanted to say thank you, again," Dr. Bryce said, grinning at Tristan.  
  
"I-I didn't really do anything," Tristan stuttered, looking at the ground bashfully in a very un-Tristan like way.  
  
"Yes, you did."  
  
Tristan said to her, "Dr. Bryce, I was planning something for tomorrow...." 


	26. Driven to Candlelight

"Hello, Mrs. Gilmore," Tristan greeted Emily the next evening.  
  
"Hello, Tristan," She smiled at him, taking in the well-pressed khakis and button down blue oxford shirt. "You look nice."  
  
"Thank you," Tristan said, looking down and checking out the outfit that he had spent two hours and many questions of the maid to decide on.  
  
"Rory will be down soon," Emily said. "Come on in."  
  
Tristan entered the room, and Emily noticed the single white rose he held in his hand.  
  
Tristan gripped it tightly, smiling bashfully at Rory's grandmother.  
  
He stood silently for a minute, nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot. Anxious for the evening to get started, he adjusted the rose in his hand and kept from swearing as one of the thorns he had missed when he spent hours cutting them off pricked him.  
  
I can't believe I spent all that time, THEN I found out there are thornless roses, Tristan thought to himself.  
  
He looked up as he heard Rory's voice, "Hi Tristan." She said softly. Tristan watched her descend the stairs, a smile spreading across his face.  
  
She reached Tristan, and he shyly held out the white rose.  
  
Thanking him, she blushed. They said goodbye to Emily and walked out to Tristan's car.  
  
Tristan helped her in, then shut the door and jogged around to the other side.  
  
"So where are we going?" Rory asked him.  
  
"Surprise."  
  
"I want to know."  
  
"The element of surprise means you don't get to know."  
  
Rory pouted exaggeratedly.  
  
Tristan switched on the CD he had spent forever picking out, Michelle Branch. He figured it would either be romantic or start up an argument about her singing style.  
  
"Confession? I love her." Rory smiled.  
  
"Me too. But if you tell anyone, I'll deny it." Tristan threatened.  
  
They drove in silence, just listening to the music. The car took them past a sign that said 'Welcome to Stars Hollow'.  
  
"What are we doing here?" Rory asked as they passed the diner and the unicorn-peddler.  
  
"Again, surprise?"  
  
"Fine."  
  
Tristan parked at the edge of town, and they started walking into the park.  
  
"Are we there yet?" Rory asked.  
  
"Yes," Tristan smiled, and Rory caught her breath.  
  
Jess and Luke, according to Tristan's instructions, had set up exactly what he had wanted. Candles surrounded the small clearing, and a picnic was set up in the middle.  
  
"Cliché, I know," Tristan apologized, "But I thought—"  
  
"It's…" Rory said, battling the part of her that wanted to confess how much she loved it. What Dean said…she didn't feel guilty about being here with Tristan. Not much, anyway. But she didn't want to move to fast. So she replied, "Wonderful."  
  
Tristan nearly exploded with glee, all the while kicking himself for how sappy this girl made him. He led her over to the blanket, and she sat down.  
  
"Coffee?" He asked her. He'd brought tons of it, according to Jess and Luke's suggestions, along with her favorite meal from the diner. They'd also recommended the vanilla scented candles, the red blanket they said she would love, the location…..  
  
"Always."  
  
He handed her a cup, looking at the candlelight flickering across her face. The paleness was still there in her skin, the sadness still haunted her expressions, her eyes still held a look of forlornness. But Tristan thought she looked happier, and that maybe he had something to do with that.  
  
Light conversation drifted between them. Tristan had intended…well, he wasn't sure. But he wanted them to finally talk about everything.  
  
Rory looked at Tristan, and in an instant decided something.  
  
"Can I show you something?" She whispered, pausing between words.  
  
"Of course," Tristan replied, confused. What could she have to show him?  
  
Rory grabbed his hand to stand up, and held it as she led him through the trees.  
  
Tristan didn't want to let go of her hand.  
  
Rory stopped at a wrought-iron gate, and said to Tristan, "We're here." 


	27. Final Moonlit Goodbye

"Where are we?" Tristan asked, not able to see much. There was an absence of light due to the cloud-covered moon, and Tristan narrowed his eyes in order to make out a few shapes of trees and what appeared to be rocks.  
  
"Shhhh…." Rory shushed him, not wanting to be approached by any meddling townspeople. She led Tristan through the gate, wincing as it squeaked loudly, and then Tristan realized where they were.  
  
Rory stopped at a simple marble headstone.  
  
Tristan looked down at her. Her eyes were focused on the name carved into the rock.  
  
He stayed silent, waiting for her to speak.  
  
"I thought—" She began. "I wanted to bring you here. You've been so great to me. So nice, and you listen to me….you got me to talk. And cry….I don't know….how to thank you? I'm not explaining myself very well." She sighed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, frustrated with herself.  
  
"It's okay," Tristan said, and Rory tightened her grip on his hand. "Dean…Dean was special. He was my first love, my first kiss. And he was taken so fast…. And I wanted to show you….I can't forget him."  
  
Tristan choked down tears, thinking that she was going to say the things he had dreaded, she didn't want to be with him and she never would. That she could only be with someone like Dean, that she wanted him to leave her alone….  
  
"But I can move on, can't I? You said that, and Dean in my dream Dr. Bryce, my mom…." She said, looking up at the emerging moon. It lit up the graveyard, reflecting off the many headstones.  
  
"Rory?" Tristan asked after a few minutes of silence from her, the only sound the far off noises of the town square and Luke's Diner. He waited for her to speak.  
  
Rory turned to face him, looking up into his eyes. "Tristan, I'm scared."  
  
Tristan cupped one of her cheeks in his hand, running his thumb along her cheekbone. "I don't want you to be."  
  
"I'm not betraying him?" She murmured, not really a question directed at Tristan but rather at herself.  
  
"No," Tristan said firmly but gently, lifting her chin.  
  
Rory looked up into his eyes, a tear slipping down her cheek. "You sure?"  
  
"I'm sure."  
  
Rory leaned into him, and he pulled her tightly against his body. No more tears flowed from Rory's eyes, but they just held each other under the moonlight. 


	28. How Do I Love Thee?

The two of them returned silently to the campsite, Tristan only warning Rory of a stone on the ground. They reached it, and they sat down on the blanket. Rory leaned against Tristan, closing her eyes. They stayed like that, Rory's eyes closed and thoughts running through her head, Tristan's open and staring at the bright moon.  
  
Rory pulled away from him, and looked up at his face. "Tristan?"  
  
"Hmmmm?" He murmured, still amazed at the fact that Rory was in his arms.  
  
"Do you think…."  
  
"What is it, Rory?" He asked, sitting up.  
  
"That poem…" She said, her hands in her lap. "Did you…."  
  
"Did I mean it?"  
  
She nodded. "Was it just pity? What you said? Or…"  
  
"Rory, I wouldn't ever lie to you." Tristan assured her.  
  
"But why?"  
  
Tristan smiled. "How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height, My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight—"  
  
"For the ends of being and ideal grace, I love thee to the level of everyday's most quiet need, by sun and candle light." Rory continued softly.  
  
"I love thee freely, as men strive for right. I love thee purely as they turn from praise, I love thee with the passion put to use—"  
  
"In my old griefs and with my childhood's faith. I loved thee with a love I seemed to lose…"  
  
"With my lost saints, I love thee with the breath. Smiles, tears, of all my life! And if God chose…"  
  
"I shall but love thee better after death." They both finished.  
  
The clearing stood still, the candlelight didn't flicker; the wind didn't blow as the two sat there.  
  
Tristan leaned in slowly, and then he hesitated. Rory smiled at him softly, and he moved in.  
  
Their lips met, connecting like a spark of electricity. The kiss intensified, Tristan's hands reaching up to the sides of Rory's face. Rory sunk into Tristan, melting into the kiss he had waited so long for. Tristan wrapped his arms around her small waist, holding her tightly.  
  
They broke apart, eyes connecting as their eyelids fluttered open.  
  
"I love you, Rory." Tristan whispered softly.  
  
Rory replied, barely audible.  
  
"I love you too, Tristan." 


End file.
